


I Won't Treat You Like You're Oh, So Typical.

by kotabear24



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Comeplay, Condoms, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, I think I got everything. Maybe, Jesy and Jade are waitresses, Kink Negotiation, Leigh Anne's a Doctor, Light Dom/sub, Literally 80's Rock cover band, M/M, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Oh, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse (not graphic), Perrie's a nurse, Piercings, Pregnant Louis, Punk Harry, Punk Niall, Punk Zayn, Rimming, Sex, Sexual Content, Sorry Not Sorry, Tattoos, Watersports, mpreg month, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 106,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotabear24/pseuds/kotabear24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn't want to blend in. Louis doesn't mind standing out. Male pregnancy's a thing, and lots of sex happens. This is in two chapters because it was too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feel like I should warn you, this has NOT been Beta'd. I literally do not have a Beta for a 100k+word fic, please don't judge me. So, uhm, it's really big, I wrote it in about five weeks because I'm a pretty slow writer apparently, but I'm really proud of it and I feel drunk as shit just for having finally posted it. I really hope you guys like it, I really REALLY hope you guys like it. There's lots of sex all over the place and lots of emotions, there's a bit of sadness but, you know. Also, this is NOT the whole pregnancy. A birth does not take place in this fic. So, like. Yeah. Idk if that's technically within the rules of the mpreg thing, but, you know. Always was a rule-breaker. 
> 
> Title from Tegan and Sara's 'Closer', you should listen, it's a really cutesy song.   
> (Also, yes, now I will start working on 'Touch' again.)  
> I love you guys!!! xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I've made a playlist - every song so much as _mentioned_ in the fic; feel free to check it out!xxx  
>  https://play.spotify.com/user/kotabear24/playlist/5QaZVKSt5LvAHPBhneTSbF

“Holy shit, are you fucking _serious_?!” Niall babbled excitedly, his voice shaky through the tinny speaker of Harry’s phone. “How the _fuck_ did you manage the Otto Bar?”

Next to Harry, Zayn rolled his eyes and smiled, thumping Harry proudly on the back.

“Knew a guy,” Harry answered vaguely, “played for him, and he thought I was cool, I guess.” The truth was, Harry’d sucked Nick’s cock twice in one night after a show at a different, more-shitty bar, and got himself off, not leaving Nick to worry about it. Nick called him a week and a half later – apparently, he was in charge of entertainment at Otto, and, for whatever reason, thought Harry would be a good permanent fixture. According to Nick, under Nick’s new management, the Otto Bar was trying to evolve (or devolve, really, depending on how you looked at it) from a classier, blue collared kind of after-shift bar, into a slightly more indie/hipster kind of place.

Harry, Niall, and their drummer, Josh, were playing that Friday, and if they did well and didn’t fuck up too badly, they’d have a permanent job, playing Friday nights for at least eight weeks, and Nick had said that Harry could work behind the bar whenever he needed extra cash, so long as he put spacers in to disguise some of his piercings a little bit. It had kind of been the break Harry needed. Not that he didn’t like being a tattoo artist – it was fun, it was easy, and he got free tattoos out of it – but it was more that Harry felt _music_ was his calling. He liked tattooing people, but he wasn’t good enough to freehand, wasn’t good enough to shade, and certainly wasn’t good enough to design. Harry could lay down the blue prints and trace with the best of them, could do touch-ups and fill-ins, but he wasn’t really an _artist_. Zayn had gotten him the job at his uncle’s place after a long apprenticeship, and while Harry was lucky to have it and grateful for the solid, good money, it didn’t really appeal to him all that much.

As Harry walked to the café across the street from the tattoo shop with Zayn, Niall babbled on and on, talking about the gig, talking about his girlfriend, talking about Josh, talking about work, talking about his parents, his day, his food, his knee, the weird thing on his second toe, the game he was playing, his new favorite social media site, the merits and drawbacks of using social media, the nice rack of the girl who’d just knocked on his door, the stupid social norms that frowned upon answering the door in nothing but boxers and a knee brace, and reminding Harry that he needed to finish writing that new song, and Harry finally had to cut him off when his lunch was eaten and they had already walked back to the shop. “Ni – Ni, I gotta let you go, bro,” he said. “Lunch break’s over, I gotta get back to work.”

“Damn, your break’s short. Alright, bro, go ahead. See you tonight, right?”

“Yeah, bro, eight sharp. Bye.”

Harry blew out a gust of air while Zayn rolled his eyes, though it was fond. “Always forget how much he talks until you’re on the phone with him,” he said lightly, and Harry grunted in agreement, staring a little harshly at the man who passed them, looking curiously at Harry.

Harry took the next girl who walked in, wanting an infinity symbol with her little brother’s birthday in the middle, and barely spoke two words to her once the blue print was down, turning the music in his office up loud enough that she flinched for a second. Mostly old rock, a little bit of recent screamo, and the slightest bit of punk played on the playlist Niall had enthusiastically made for him after Harry took him out for a night of beers, and Harry was done within fifteen minutes, wiping off the tattoo and giving her a card with the aftercare instructions written down because he didn’t care to memorize them. She left the door open after she tipped him and left, and Zayn whistled once she was gone. “Bro, she was _hot_ ,” he said lowly, and Harry nodded, making himself stare after her.

“Yeah,” he said, feigning an aloof sort of interest and then shrugging his shoulders. “Too much emotional baggage, though,” he said, pushing his rolling chair back to his desk.

“What makes you say that?”

“Her fourteen-year-old brother just died,” Harry said in monotone, flipping to Temple Run (he knew the game was old news; whatever) while he waited for a new customer. “Think she said he drowned, she was all cut up about it when she was getting it done.”

“Ouch,” Zayn said, and Harry shrugged. It was sad, of course, but Harry had an amazing ability to grimace once or twice in sympathy and then be over it.

Harry finished up the day with two more tattoos, getting a $20 tip from one guy who liked that Harry didn’t talk much and liked his music, prompting Harry to smile and thank him. He left work and went for dinner, and then headed over to the bar with his guitar in its case, ready to busk just outside for a little while, since the owner liked the attraction from Niall and Harry’s acoustic covers, but didn’t like the sound of the songs otherwise.

They made alright money doing it, even though Harry didn’t specifically _need_ the money; he only busked because it made him feel closer to his music, and he didn’t play his acoustic guitar too much otherwise, except when he wrote songs in his apartment, late at night.

Harry and Niall had a beer each, and then Niall drove them home and crashed on Harry’s couch.

\---

Friday night, Harry showed up two hours early with his electric guitar, named Christine, and met Nick next to the bar. He’d put a little bit of care into his appearance, since it was a new gig: he had his snake bites in, the hoops that circled his bottom lip, a stud in his right nostril, a bar through his left eyebrow, a dangling cross from his left lobe, and a hoop through his helix; his eyeliner was more Jared Leto circa 2008 than his usual Adam Lambert 2011. Nick was too busy to fuck around, but he let Harry have a free beer and understood when Harry started ignoring him as soon as Josh arrived, soon followed by Niall.

Zayn got there just before they started, standing confidently with his makeup-less face, though he was still more attractive than probably anyone in the world (what a douche) as he watched them set up. The crowd seemed a little confused, seeing the stage being taken over by punks with body modifications and makeup as they drank their beers in their now-less-buttoned but still-starched work shirts, and as Harry stepped up to the mic, he was actually a tiny bit nervous. His usual crowds were always pretty happy to see him; these people were just ready to be bored or disgusted with him.

“Hi, I’m Harry. This is Niall and Josh, and together, we’re The Masochists. We’re gonna play a few songs for you tonight; hope that’s alright.”

Nobody booed at him, so Harry took a step back, making sure Christine was tuned up correctly, and started off covering Whitesnake’s _Love Ain’t No Stranger_ , following with a lowered key of Skid Row, _I Remember You_. Between Three Days’ Grace _I Hate Everything About You_ and _Animal I Have Become_ , Harry saw two guys come into Otto and order drinks. Niall had to retune his guitar, so they were off long enough for Harry to watch. One of them was about Harry’s height, with muscles and a buzz cut, his shirt still completely buttoned up – most of the crowd had relaxed, though some had just gotten up and left by now – and the other one was probably the most beautiful person Harry had ever seen in his life. He was short, and petite, though he had impressive biceps and even through his slacks, Harry could see his thighs were powerful, and his butt - _God_ , was it beautiful. The beautiful one paused a little uncertainly when he saw Harry staring at him, and he blushed and nudged Muscles, mumbling to him. Muscles looked up at Harry, and his eyes widened a little, but he looked between Beautiful One and Harry a few times, a playful smirk falling onto his lips. He nodded at Harry, friendly, and Harry had to remind himself that, if he wanted Beautiful One to like him, Harry probably shouldn’t glare at his company. They sat down at a table in about the middle of the bar, and Muscles ordered some food, Beautiful One shaking his head at the offer, and Niall stepped back up to the mic.

They covered _Too Late For Love_ and, of course, _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ by Def Leppard. Harry’s shirt was off by the time he got to Paolo Nutini’s _Jenny, Don’t Be Hasty_ , and he noticed Beautiful One’s jaw drop and stare. He swallowed several times and couldn’t stop licking his lips, making Muscles laugh at him and make him blush, when Harry practically had sex on stage as they performed Scorpions’ _Rock You Like A Hurricane_ , and then they ended with the shocker of the night – a slow, very sappy song called _How Am I Supposed To Live Without You_ , by Michael Bolton. As much as he loved performing the faster, rockier, and sexier covers, this song was his favorite one, probably because of the shock. Nobody looked at him, with his makeup and piercings and tight clothes and generally unfriendly stare, and expected him to belt out songs about being tired of sleeping alone.

“Thank you very much – again, we’re The Masochists – only on stage; not in bed,” he added on a whim, winking in Beautiful One’s direction, and he sputtered his drink while the rest of the crowd laughed a little, “and we hope to play here again, so go tell the tall bar tender with the bike rack hair to pay us good money!”

The crowd laughed a little more at that, and Nick rolled his eyes from the bar, though he waved, and Harry turned off his mic and started packing his things up. Harry glanced back at Beautiful One’s table, and his eyes nearly bulged out when he saw Zayn sitting there, having a conversation with Muscles. “Zayn!” He shouted, and when his friend turned around, he made very obvious eyes towards Louis, hoping he’d understand Harry’s silent plea to keep him there until he was done packing up.

Zayn was the only person in the entire world who knew Harry was gay. Harry’s sister, Gemma, had her suspicions, though she never voiced them, and Harry was pretty firmly in the closet. Not so much out of fear – he only gave a shit what about four people thought of him – but for some reason, he’d never come out, and kept playing the charade of sex with hot girls and booze and his guitar. It had gotten him this far, and guys he hooked up with were probably afraid of him enough to not run their mouths.

Harry finished packing up, and Niall had to get home to his girlfriend. Harry told Josh he’d be drinking, so Josh caught a ride with Niall, and Harry was officially free to go flirt.

Zayn was still there when Harry walked back into the bar, giving Harry a reason to approach them. When he did, Zayn clapped his back and Muscles congratulated him on a good show, but Beautiful One stared down at his drink.

“I’m Liam,” said Muscles, and Harry shook his hand.

“Harry,” he said, a little flatly, but Liam grinned.

“Great show, it was really good,” he said. “Not really my kind of music, but I can certainly appreciate a different genre.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you liked it,” Harry said, and he was pretty sure he’d filled his talking quota for the day. He looked over at Beautiful One, though, and sat down next to him while Zayn and Liam continued whatever conversation they’d had before. “Did _you_ like the show?” He asked softly, surprising himself. Usually, the second he’d spotted someone he wanted to fuck and was free to flirt, he was all rolling confidence and sex appeal.

Beautiful One looked up at him, though, and his eyes were so gorgeous, as was the light blush on his cheeks. “Uh – y-yeah,” he said a little quickly, and then bit his lip, taking a drink.

Feeling inexplicably proud, for some reason, Harry grinned. “Good, I’m glad. I saw you and your friend walk in about halfway through; I think you made me perform better.”

Beautiful One laughed lightly, bit his lip, and then blurted, “I doubt you needed it; you were great.” His eyes opened a little wide when he realized he’d said it, but Harry was embarrassingly happy.

“Thank you,” he said, and gently touched his hand. “Can I get your name?”

“Louis,” he nearly whispered.

“Louis. I like that. I’m Harry.”

“Yeah – you, uhm. Y-you said that, when you were on stage.”

“Oh – right, yeah, I guess I did,” Harry laughed a little awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. “Uh, can I buy you a drink?”

Louis’ fingers tightened around his glass, but he nodded. “I’m – it’s a Sugar Daddy,” he said, blushing when Harry chuckled.

“You someone’s sugar daddy, then?” He asked, smiling. Louis swallowed.

“No, I’m – I’m only twenty-six, I don’t – I don’t think that would really work out ,” he said.

“I’m sure some girl wouldn’t mind breaking the age rules of sugar daddies,” Harry contradicted, and Louis shook his head a little more.

“No, I – plus, I’m really, really gay, so.” He blushed when he said it, and Harry laughed lightly and then went to go get another drink for Louis, and a coke for himself. He had no intention of drinking when he could remember every detail about Louis. When he came back, Louis’ forehead was a little red, like he’d hit it repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, and Harry sat down and handed over the Sugar Daddy before he responded.

“Don’t be,” he said easily. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Louis took a drink of his Sugar Daddy, and Harry watched him. His shirt was finally unbuttoned by two, his tie loose, and his pants slightly wrinkled from the way he’d been sitting. He kept staring between his own drink and Harry’s face, blushing when he realized Harry knew he was staring.

“Do you come here every day?” Harry found himself asking, and Louis shook his head.

“Only on Fridays,” he answered. “Me and Liam – we have conference meetings on Fridays, and they’re stressful, so we come here after. Uhm, do you? Come here often, I mean?”

Harry shook his head, smiling ruefully. “No, this is our first gig here,” he explained. “Nick, the owner, wants to sort of change the atmosphere a little, so he had us come in today as sort of an audition, and once he counts up sales, or something, he’ll call us back and let us know if we’re gonna be hired on to stay permanently.”

“That’s – that’s exciting,” Louis said, smiling – maybe a little hopefully. “Good luck. Should I go buy a whole bunch of drinks before I leave, then? Improve your chances?”

“Only if you want to see more of me,” Harry answered, smirking a little, and Louis blushed.

“I – I mean, I wouldn’t mind, I guess,” he babbled a little nervously, and Harry bit his lip and sucked on a ring. “You’re – well, you’re good, for one, and, uhm, I – you know, you’re – nice, too, so. Uhm. Yeah.”

Harry smiled and took a swig of his coke, and then put his hand on Louis’ knee. Louis froze for a second, and then smiled up at Harry, a mix of nervous and inviting. “This might sound a little forward,” Harry began, “but would you want to get out of here with me?”

Louis’ smile faltered, just a little, and Harry rushed to add, “I haven’t eaten. Have you? We could go get some, like, pizza, or something.”

The smile returned, then, along with a blush, and he nodded shyly, leaning over to tell Liam that Harry would take him home. Liam gave Harry a searching look, then, and when Harry held up his coke to show him he hadn’t been drinking, nodded and said goodbye.

Harry led Louis out with a hand on the small of his _small_ back, nodding to Nick and leading Louis to his car. The car was nothing really fancy, or anything – a 2004 Nissan Altima – but it was nice enough, not too beat up and the heat and AC worked most of the time, so Harry wasn’t embarrassed when he opened the door for Louis, who ducked his head to try and hide his smile, and they headed to a late-night pizza place that was overpriced and ridiculously greasy.

Louis relaxes a little bit as they eat, enough to have mostly-not awkward conversations. They got a lot of weird looks – one lady even gasped when she saw Harry’s face (rude), and Louis went quiet for a minute.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized awkwardly. “That really doesn’t happen too often, but…it’s probably because it’s like, _you_ ,” he emphasized, gesturing at the way Louis looked – clean-shaven, very well-groomed and well-dressed, and ‘normal’, “next to _me_.” Harry gestured at his face awkwardly, but Louis only rolled his eyes, his smile small and tentative.

“I like, uhm. I like the way you look,” he said quietly. “And it’s not as if that lady thought we’d ever date – I mean, honestly, it’s not as if we’re each other’s go-to type, right?” Harry laughed, though he was a little hurt, and Louis continued, peeling apart his napkin with fidgety fingers. “…But, you know. You’re – I don’t think it looks scary, or anything like that. I think it looks nice. It’s really…” Louis blushed, and coughed, before he looked back up to Harry’s eyes. “It’s sexy, I guess.”

Harry grinned playfully, and Louis pretended to groan. “Oh, I’m _sexy_?” He asked, making a weird face, so that Louis laughed obnoxiously loud. “I am _totally_ your type,” Harry continued. “You want to kiss me; I can see it in your eyes.” Harry pushed drool down his lower lip, crossing his eyes and smiling like a maniac, leaning towards Louis across the table and trying not to laugh when Louis pulled away.

Louis put his hands up, batting Harry away as he laughed, and Harry chased him, making kissy noises and laughing as he went. Once they started getting too many looks and a few people muttering, though, Harry easily uncrossed his eyes and stopped making noises. He licked his lips and wiped them off with the back of his hand, and Louis’ laughter faded out as his eyes flickered between Harry’s eyes and Harry’s lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry asked quietly, and Louis just nodded, mouth parting in surprise a little.

Harry leaned forward just a bit more, two fingertips reaching out to stroke Louis’ cheek. He heard Louis’ small gasp and pressed their lips together for a brief moment, the contact sending a shock through Harry. Harry pulled back naturally, but Louis, whose eyes were shut tight, leaned forward and kissed him again, parting his lips enough to surround Harry’s upper lip with his own, enabling Harry to suck on his lower lip just a tiny, little bit.

Louis pulled away, this time, and kept his eyes shut until Harry traced a line across his cheek again. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly, and sat back down in his seat.

Louis’ face was pink, and he smiled brilliantly at Harry. “I, uhm. That was nice.” He slid his hands across the table, fingers sneaking enough that his fingertips touched Harry’s. At the contact, Harry smiled, and rubbed his fingertips across the tops of Louis’ fingers, liking the way this beautiful boy blushed.

\---

Harry got a call from Nick Tuesday morning, telling him that he’d tallied up the income and compared it to the Friday before. It hadn’t been much of an improvement, but Nick said he wanted to start advertising that The Masochists would be there semi-permanently, because a lot of people liked them. Nick hired them on for the next eight Fridays, and said he’d monitor the influx of money, to see if it would be worth it. He also said Harry could start bartending the next week, on Sunday night.

“You have to train for a week consecutively, so just come in early on that Friday and tend for a few hours before you play your set; I’ll keep you clocked in until you’ve finished, so you can at least get that. Once you’ve done your training, just put yourself on the schedule at least three nights a week, but no more than twenty hours for the week total, okay? We don’t employ full-time, except for managers.”

Harry had thanked Nick profusely and called Niall, who talked his ear off and then called Josh when Harry had to go to work.

Friday night, Harry didn’t go early, because Nick wasn’t really on his mind. He hoped Louis would be there; they’d exchanged numbers and texted just a few times throughout the week, but Harry hadn’t asked him if he was coming.

Harry spent the twenty spare minutes he had with a beer in his hand, glaring at people who came in the door that weren’t Louis, until Niall was pushing through, his guitar slung on his back. He found Harry and waved him over, for help to unload the van. With a sigh and another glance around, Harry downed the rest of his beer and unloaded.

“Hello, everyone!” He called through the mic once everything was set up. Harry glanced around the crowd, looking for the pressed button-up of Louis – or even his friend, at this point – but didn’t spot them. “I’m Harry – that’s Niall, and Josh, back there on the drums. We’re The Masochists, and we’re gonna play a few songs for you; hope that’s okay. Here’s some Whitesnake to start it off.”

Harry made his way through _Here I Go Again_ , letting Niall take care of the falsetto in the middle, and then played Creed’s _One Last Breath_. During the minute-long introduction to Black Crowes’ _She Talks To Angels_ , Harry saw daylight paint the faces of the crowd, thanks to the opening door, and his head snapped up. Louis and Liam were coming in, and Harry grinned at Louis. Louis smiled back and then ducked his head, scratching his nose, and Harry focused back to listen for his cue.

Niall took over the main vocals for _Simple Man_ by Lynyrd Skynyrd, Harry joining in for the chorus, and Harry took over again for _Wherever You Will Go_ by The Calling. “Don’t worry,” Harry said with a smile, feeling the crowd sag a little bit. “It’s not a sad night. Here’s Guns N’ Roses!”

They played _Welcome to The Jungle_ , and then Harry decided to sex it up by replaying _Pour Some Sugar_ by Def Leppard again, grinding against the mic stand and winking at Louis when Niall wasn’t looking, dragging his hands down his body and cupping himself. Louis coughed and squirmed in his seat, and Liam laughed at him. Harry finished with some Bon Jovi, a more hyped-up version of _Dead or Alive_ , and bowed with his band when the patrons of the bar clapped.

“Thank you!” Niall shouted into the mic. “Again, I’m Niall, and we’re The Masochists. We’re gonna be here every Friday night for the next two months, so be sure to come see us again if you liked us!”

Harry looked at Louis and saw he was already staring, and waved a little secretly, hand down by his waist where Niall wouldn’t see if he looked. Louis waved back, just as small, and tapped at the table, his eyebrows raising in question. Hoping Louis was asking him to join them, Harry nodded, held up a finger, and went to pack up the equipment as quickly as possible.

“Hey, who’s those two guys who came in late?” Josh asked when Harry took apart the drum set and started loading the parts up. Harry glared at him in lieu of a response.

It wasn’t that Harry disliked Josh, but they were more of acquaintances who worked together than friends. Harry had no problem with Josh, and Josh had long gotten used to Harry’s quiet surliness. Josh didn’t usually ask questions, and he liked Harry’s voice and the songs he wrote and suggestions he made for covers in gigs. Harry asked his opinion on music when he wanted it, but their relationship didn’t really go past decisions affecting the band, and Harry had gotten used to that.

“I was wondering that, too,” Niall said lightly, and Harry sighed, knowing Niall wouldn’t stop until he got an answer. Unlike Josh, Harry had kind of grown up with Niall, who had been persistent about being friends since Harry was about fifteen or sixteen and already decidedly _not_ good with people. Niall had gotten under his skin, though, and Harry’d had to resign himself to the fact that he’d be around for a long time. Now, Niall was the only person not related to Harry, besides Zayn, that Harry called freely and entrusted with any kind of personal information. Niall was one of the only people who’d seen Harry’s silly side, because he’d been around long enough that Harry could relax and get used to him.

“Guys, you don’t come into a bar _late_ ,” Harry said by way of avoiding the question. “It’s not like there’s an entrance time.”

“Yeah, but those two guys were here last time, and it looked like that one in the blue shirt was trying to get your attention,” Niall pointed out.

Harry allowed himself two seconds of happiness with his face turned away from the boys before he turned around, settling into his scowl. “Probably just liked the songs,” Harry muttered, and put his guitar case into the back of the van. “You guys headed home?”

“Think I’m gonna stay and have a few,” Josh said, but Niall shook his head.

“Barb’s got her legs open for me at home,” he babbled, looking at his phone. He cleared his throat and pocketed his phone, and jerked his head excitedly to the van. “Heading out now. Harry, want a ride?”

“I’m good,” Harry said, thinking quickly of ways to get out of going home, while simultaneously getting Louis out without Josh noticing. “Nick wants to talk to me about all the money stuff.” Good. Josh let Harry handle all the money; maybe he’d go find someone to shag and ignore Harry. “I’ll call a cab, or something. Pick up Christine later from your house, okay?” Niall shrugged and left, and Josh clapped Harry on the back, rolling his eyes when Harry glared at him, and walked back into the bar.

Harry followed him after a beat, relieved when Josh went straight to the bar. He was a little surprised when he got to the table, though, to see that only Louis was sitting at it, Liam gone.

“He had to get home,” Louis said when he saw Harry’s questioning look. “Hi.”

“Hi, there,” Harry answered, feeling a smile growing on his face. He didn’t know what to do with it, though, so he asked, “How was your day?”

Louis shrugged, but sighed. “It was okay,” he said, grimacing. “Our sister company’s a little frantic right now; with summer coming closer, loads of people’s retirements are official, and leaves of absence are being taken, that kind of thing, so a lot of firms are looking for people to fill their jobs permanently or in the meantime, and with about forty-odd companies breathing down our necks, it’s a little difficult to get everything done. We’re filling our quotas, but I’m pretty sure they’re gonna raise the expectancy, come the next few weeks.”

The bar was noisy around them, making Harry lean in to listen to Louis, and he scrunched his face in sympathy. “What do you do for them?” He asked, not having learned the previous week.

“I’m a headhunter,” Louis said, laughing a little shyly when Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Uhm, an executive recruiter?” He tried. “Basically, companies come to me and say things like, ‘Hey, we’re looking for…a CEO with fifteen years minimum of experience, with rates in the seventy-fifth percentile in successive increasing net worth,’ and I go out and find them. I find people who are still working, people who have retired, people who are looking into retirement options, all of them, and make them offers until they’re interested, and put them in contact with the company that hired me in the first place.”

“Wow,” Harry said, kind of actually interested. “That sounds…not fun at all, I’m sorry,” he admitted, and Louis laughed, fiddling with the glass he was holding with both hands.

“It’s not bad at all, actually,” he said, smiling a little. “I’m really good at it, and I’m really competitive, too, but I’m also, like, a people-pleaser, so I get to help companies out, help people get better jobs, and get paid to pretty much surf the web and talk to people all day. Plus, I’m close to my family again – there was a while I was working in Delaware, and it was awful,” he said, shuddering. Harry tried to imagine life outside of bustling New York City and just couldn’t.

“I’ve never left the state,” he confided, and Louis’ jaw dropped.

He pushed back from the table, suddenly, and stood, smiling playfully. “Come on,” he said, touching Harry’s fingers. “Let’s get out of here.”

Louis drove, this time, and took them to a hot dog vendor, parked the car, and got out, Harry in tow. It was a stark difference to the shy Louis who’d barely made eye contact with him the week before, but then again, Louis was still being very shy and quiet – just a little more comfortable about where he stood with Harry.

“Your show was really good tonight, by the way,” he said after a massive bite from the hot dog. It had mustard on it, and Harry was vaguely disgusted, but he ignored the thought and smiled.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “I’m glad you liked it. I think I’m gonna have to play _Pour Some Sugar_ every week, though; you’re so much fun to watch when I sing it.”

Louis blushed and hip-checked Harry, avoiding his gaze as he replied. “You’re – shut up, you’re, you know, a really good performer. It’s fun to, uhm, watch you perform. You’re really good. I never even _liked_ those songs until you performed them.”

Harry felt the words like a bullet straight to the heart, and he made a solemn face and shook his head. “I’m flattered, but my inner forty-year-old is deeply hurt by that, Louis.”

Louis scoffed, and Harry gently snagged his hand, testing the waters to see if Louis would want to hold his hand when they were out in public, people walking around in the night next to them, passing and jostling them. Louis startled, at first, but then he looked down at their hands and shyly looked up at Harry beneath his eyelashes, and smiled. He squeezed Harry’s hand, and Harry squeezed back, feeling ten feet tall.

“So, other than playing for the Otto Bar every Friday night,” Louis began, “what do you do?”

Harry smiled a little strained. “Well, I’m set to start my training to bartend there a few hours a week,” he listed, “and I work in a tattoo parlor with Zayn, my friend from last week who came over to your table.”

“Oh, wow, that’s so cool!” Louis said, and Harry would’ve thought he was making fun if it hadn’t been for the childlike fascination on his face. “I love tattoos! I don’t have any myself, but I love them. I think they’re great.”

Harry laughed and carelessly tugged the hem of his shirt up just a little, enough for Louis to see that he had ink covering his skin. Louis’ hand tightened quickly in Harry’s, but he relaxed when Harry let go of the fabric fall back down to rest on his belt.

“Is it cool, working there?” Louis asked. “Have you ever messed up? Do you work all kinds of weird hours? What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever tattooed on an actual person’s body?”

Harry laughed, surprised by Louis’ sudden excitement, and bit his lip. “…You could come visit me, while I’m at work, or something, if you want. Or, you know, if you wanted to go to lunch sometime next week; I can take my break pretty much whenever I feel like – but you could come and see. If you wanted, I mean.”

“ _Really_?” Louis asked, sounding in awe. “I wouldn’t distract you, or anything?”

Harry laughed lightly, and shook his head. “No, you’ll be fine,” he assured Louis. “It’s hard to catch me off guard, by now; unless you grab my hand, or something, I won’t mess anyone up.”

“Okay,” Louis said, smiling until he bit his lip, bouncing on his toes. “You’ll text me where you work?”

“Sure,” Harry said. “It’ll be fun, you can hang out and watch me tattoo someone, as long as they’re okay with it.”

Louis made an excited noise that had Harry laughing, and Louis shut him up by kissing him, tugging him close by the hand and wrapping his free hand around the back of Harry’s neck.

Harry bent down and kissed him easily, happy to get a chance to kiss him again so soon. Louis was open, though, more than he expected, and let Harry slide his tongue through his lips without hesitation. Louis hummed when Harry’s tongue licked his, arching his back just enough to press their hips together. When Harry was deciding whether or not it’d be worth it to pass out in favor of not stopping the kiss to breathe, Louis pulled back and pressed his forehead against Harry’s, rubbing his fingers against the skin on the back of Harry’s neck.

“I don’t usually do this, but, uh.” He swallowed and kept his eyes closed, but Harry saw him lick his lip. “Do you – will you come back to my place tonight? With me?”

Everything in Harry’s body screamed _yes_ , so he did. “How far’s your place?” He asked, and Louis giggled naughtily.

“We’re here,” he said, and Harry didn’t even get a chance to look around before he was being pulled into an apartment building that had an actual lobby with someone at the front desk, eyeing them. Louis tugged Harry by the hand to the elevator, and as soon as the doors were shut, he hit a button for the fourth floor and plastered himself against the wall, pulling Harry gently towards him.

Harry placed a hand on the wall by Louis’ head and smiled, standing close enough for their bodies to touch, and Louis stood on his toes while Harry cupped his face and the side of his neck to kiss him, settling into a rhythm of give and take that had Louis moaning, his free hand roaming up and down Harry’s back by the time they hit the right floor.

Harry continued kissing him just long enough for an old woman standing outside the elevator to see them and gasp, and Harry laughed at her scandalized look.

“Hi, Mrs. Brien,” Louis greeted, and Harry noticed, smugly, that his hair was messed up, cheeks pink and voice breathless, all because of him.

“H-hi, Louis,” she said, and Harry grinned playfully while he defiantly grabbed Louis’ hand in front of her.

Louis didn’t seem to mind, dragging a hand across Harry’s face as he tugged Harry, rushing, from the elevator and down the hall. He reached his apartment and let Harry force him around and push him against the door, his keys falling from his hand with a series of _clinks_ , and kiss him. Louis didn’t miss a beat, pushing himself up and pulling Harry down, pulling Harry’s body closer to grind together, making noises and breathing loudly against the door.

“In, come on, let’s go,” Harry said, pushing himself away while Louis picked up the key and turned back around. It took a few tries, but Louis finally got the door open, and Harry wasn’t even given the chance to look around properly until he was being yanked in and kissed.

Harry kicked the door shut behind him and let Louis walk them backwards towards the bedroom, touching every inch of each other through their clothes. They finally reached the bedroom, Harry assumed, because Louis pulled away and shoved the vest from Harry’s shoulders, pushing it down his long arms and immediately struggling to unbutton the rest of Harry’s ripped, stained flannel shirt. Harry got his belt and pants, and then took care of Louis’ belt, unbuttoning and unzipping Louis’ nice work slacks. Louis’ pants dropped straight to the ground once they were undone, but Harry knew he’d have to shimmy out from his, so he ignored his clothes and pulled Louis back into a kiss, only stopping because he felt Louis’ shirt against his bare chest.

Louis moaned in frustration and stepped back to take care of his shirt, so Harry peeled the jeans from his legs, pulling off his shoes and socks while he went. Louis wasn’t wearing any socks with his dress shoes, but once the shirt was off and he was in his boxers and nothing else, Harry didn’t care one little bit; he was gorgeous.

“Fuck,” he whispered , and pushed Louis down onto the bed, falling right after him to attack his neck in kisses and licks. Louis’ arms wrapped around Harry and his hands roamed the breadth of Harry’s back, but Harry focused on wetting down Louis’ neck and collarbones in attention. He grinded their hard cocks together, and Louis arched up when Harry tweaked his nipples. “Tell me you’ve got stuff,” Harry groaned. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, and he was nodding frantically when he leaned over to fish through his nightstand. “I’m on the pill, too,” he said as he tossed the lube and a condom at the bed next to him, pulling Harry’s mouth up to his for a minute again.

 _So, he could get pregnant_ , Harry thought for a moment. But Louis sucked on his tongue and put a hand over Harry’s dick, and Harry stopped thinking.

He moaned into the kiss, but he needed to be able to see to lube up his fingers, so he broke the kiss again long enough to soak his fingers.

Harry pushed Louis’ legs up, baring his ass, and traced a finger around Louis’ hole. It quivered, Louis throwing his head back, and Harry gently pressed in, internally groaning when he felt how hot and tight Louis was. Louis hummed and wrapped Harry’s curls around a few fingers, his other hand reaching between his legs to grab at Harry’s wrist.

“Come on, come on,” he murmured in a chant, and Harry kissed his inner thigh and shoved his finger deep. Louis was quiet for a second, rocking his hips against Harry’s finger, but the silence, save their breaths, was shattered a moment later. “Come _on_ , Harry. More.”

Harry chuckled against Louis’ leg and added his middle finger, rocking them in together tight. Louis gave himself a moment to adjust, and then Harry started scissoring his fingers open, stretching him and purposefully avoiding his prostate. Louis planted his feet down on the bed, trying to get purchase enough to ride Harry’s fingers, but Harry made a displeased sound and pushed his legs back up, holding the back of his knees with his forearm so Louis had no choice but to take what Harry gave him.

Louis whined, his hand squeezing Harry’s wrist again, and Harry took pity only enough to rub his prostate a few times before adding a third finger.

The third finger was a stretch, so Harry stilled his thrusting and gently squeezed his finger in, watching Louis’ face carefully to see if he needed a break. He didn’t, though, his face peaceful except for the slight crease between his eyebrows. When Harry’s three fingers were all the way in, he hummed and tapped Harry’s wrist, giving him the go-ahead. Amazed at how well Louis was taking him – his fingers weren’t exactly small – Harry watched Louis with lust and a little bit of awe.

Louis looked gorgeous. He had a layer of sweat covering his face and the top of his chest, the rest of his skin just starting to get a little clammy with it, and his eyes were closed, a little smile just barely turning up the corners of his lips. His breath was loud and a little moany, like it was pushed out of him every time Harry thrust his fingers in. He tightened spastically around Harry’s fingers in pleasure, making Harry imagine the way he’d tighten around his cock in a minute. He looked like he was made for Harry to fuck him.

“Come on, fuck me, Harry, _fuck me_ ,” Louis whined after a while, and Harry withdrew his fingers. He tore the wrapper off the condom with his teeth, pinching the tip and rolling the rest on carefully. His fingers slipped a few times, slicked up, and he poured lube onto his cock, eyes fluttering at the feeling, and drizzled more over Louis’ hole.

Harry shifted to lay over top of Louis, leaning on one hand braced next to Louis’ head and the other guiding himself in, and Louis grabbed onto Harry’s forearm, pressing his fingers hard into Harry’s skin when Harry slowly pressed. The head of Harry’s cock made it past the muscle, finally, and Harry gave himself a minute under the guise of giving Louis a minute. After a short moment, though, Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist and pulled himself up, trying to fuck himself down over more of Harry’s cock, so Harry leaned down to kiss him as he pushed in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis chanted against Harry’s lips, and Harry’s spare hand cupped his jaw. Louis’ eyes were open wide, staring at Harry desperately as Harry finally had himself buried completely in Louis.

“Shit, you’re tight,” Harry groaned, burying his face in Louis’ neck. Louis groaned and wrapped both arms around Harry’s neck, tugging on his hair to urge him on.

Harry took a ragged breath and pulled almost all the way out, pushing up on his arms, and thrust into Louis hard, nearly pushing him up the bed. Harry set an even pace, pulling out slow and thrusting in hard until Louis was panting out whines every time Harry thrust in, pulling on the hairs at the base of Harry’s neck to make him look him in the eye.

Harry sat back on his knees, groaning as Louis tightened on the new angle, and wrapped his arms under the backs of Louis’ knees, fingers digging into the meat of Louis’ inner thighs to keep him still. Louis wailed and threw his head back when Harry thrust into him, the head of his cock catching Louis’ prostate on nearly every thrust. Harry grunted and wrapped a hand around Louis’ cock, feeling his own orgasm coming not far off and wanting Louis to come first, and Louis writhed on the bed once he started stroking, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck into Harry’s hand or down onto his cock.

“Harry,” Louis hummed, tilting his head back while his back arched up, fingers scrambling against the sheets. Harry sped his pace up and Louis’ back fell onto the bedding again, and Louis’ eyes opened halfway to stare Harry down.

Harry gave in, pausing his thrusts long enough to lay down, putting most of his weight on top of Louis again, and kissed Louis. It was messy and pretty useless, just sloppy tongues and panting breaths into each other’s mouths, but Harry swallowed Louis’ moan when he resumed thrusting, forcing his hand between their bodies to stroke Louis’ cock again.

Louis scratched completely down Harry’s back as he came, tightening around Harry’s cock and forcing him to slow his thrusts, and Harry mouthed at Louis’ collarbones when his own orgasm took over seconds later.

Louis froze, fingers digging into Harry’s muscles hard enough to hurt, and even through his haze, he mumbled, “I think it broke.”

A little nervous, Harry kissed him and slowly pulled out, silently worrying when he saw that the condom had, indeed, torn. “It’s okay,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm. “It’s fine. You’re on the pill, you said, right?”

Louis hesitated, and Harry felt fear building up in his stomach until he slowly nodded. Harry saw the tension in his body, though, so he pulled off the condom and threw it away, and left to go get a rag to wipe them off. It took a second to figure out where the bathroom was, but when he reached it, he saw his eyeliner was god-awful, of course, and he thumbed underneath his eyes and on the middle of his eyelids, where it had smeared, before he grabbed a rag and wet it down. When he came back, Louis was fidgeting, watching him carefully, so Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and calmly started wiping off the come from his tiny little rounded tummy, letting himself show the smallest of smiles when he looked up at Louis.

Louis had already been watching, and when Harry looked at him, he smiled a little hesitantly. Harry couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing his lips gently, not wanting Louis to feel like this had been a one-off, cheap thing, and Louis let a few fingertips run from Harry’s temple down to his chin.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Louis asked once Harry straightened up, the angle not feeling too great on his back. His eyes flickered all over Harry’s tattoos on his body, eyes bright despite being sleepy.

“Do you want me to?” Harry asked, and Louis bit his lip and looked away at the extra space the bed had to offer.

“I mean, it’s late,” he said, trailing off. “I don’t – it’s not really safe to walk the streets right now, and I really don’t feel like driving. You – I mean, you might as well just stay.”

Harry smiled, easily accepting the invitation – after such great sex, and the second night spent with Louis so far, Harry found himself not wanting to leave at all. So, he kissed Louis’ temple and heaved himself over to the other side of the bed, and when Louis looked at him appraisingly, Harry just rolled his eyes and pulled Louis close. Louis was still on his back, so Harry spooned his hip, draping his right arm around Louis’ waist. He curled his fingers around Louis’ far hip, and it wasn’t long until Louis relaxed enough to roll onto his side, his butt fitting against Harry’s groin. His hair tickled Harry’s chin a little, but Harry just folded one arm under his pillow and let his index finger snag Louis’ pinky finger, where it was resting just above his belly, and it wasn’t long at all until Louis fell asleep. Harry took a little longer, as usual, but the sound of Louis’ tiny little snores soon had him falling into a sleep he’d never find in his own bed, with the other side always cold.

\---

When Harry woke up, his entire left side was completely numb.

A little confused for a moment, Harry glanced down and saw a bird’s nest of soft, caramel hair. His collarbone was warm and a little wet, and when Harry shifted to take his situation into stock, he realized that during the night, they must have shifted significantly, Harry rolling onto his back and Louis turning over and sprawling out, ending up halfway on top of Harry. Louis’ left leg was thrown over and wedged between Harry’s legs; his arms were wound tightly around Harry’s torso, and he was drooling a little into the dip of Harry’s collarbone.

Harry smiled a little fondly and then wondered why the hell he was fond of a guy he didn’t really know all that well. Ignoring it, Harry wiggled very slowly out from underneath Louis, watching when Louis frowned in his sleep and curled up with a pillow instead, and then turned to use the bathroom.

Harry squirted some of Louis’ toothpaste onto his finger and combat brushed his teeth, gagging a little at the awful taste – what self-respecting young man uses _Sensodyne_ , for god’s sake? – and cleaned up under his eye makeup, where it smudged a little bit more through the night. Harry debated leaving to get breakfast, since it was a little rude to just barge into someone’s kitchen and take over, but he didn’t want Louis to wake up and think he’d just left after fucking him, so Harry ignored the light rumbling in his stomach and slipped back into bed…after sneaking some of Louis’ deodorant.

Louis hummed when the bed dipped under Harry’s weight again, and Harry wiggled until Louis huffed and scooted around, eventually settling with his back pressing against Harry’s side. Harry almost wanted to run his fingers along Louis’ side, wanted that sort of intimacy, but he refrained, knowing it’d be weird, when he and Louis weren’t a couple. It didn’t take long for him to fall back to sleep, though, despite the warmth of the early morning and the heat of Louis’ body next to his.

The next time Harry woke up, it was because Louis was grumpily patting his shoulder. Harry grunted in question, and Louis pushed at his shoulder, pushing him away.

“Your _phone_ ,” Louis moaned, and Harry blinked before he realized his alarm was going off, that loud foghorn kind of sound only an Apple product could manage to own.

Harry rolled over and searched for his pants on the floor, his phone wedged in the back pocket. He swore when he realized he was half an hour later getting up than usual, and he jumped up.

“What is it?” Louis asked in a half-asleep mumble, and Harry answered as he pulled on his jeans, ignoring his briefs.

“I’m late for work,” he said. He pulled on his vest, grimacing at how stupid he’d look with a buttoned up dark jean vest and no shirt underneath, but Zayn would _definitely_ notice if he wore the same outfit as yesterday. “Where are we?” Harry asked belatedly, remembering how Louis hadn’t answered the question last night. “How long will it take me to walk to twenty-fifth and Temp?”

Louis sat up, wiping at his eyes, and shook his head while Harry looked for his socks. “You won’t make it, not even in time. You’ll straight-up not make it; we’re pretty far. Give me five minutes; I’ll just take you.”

“Lou, it’s fine,” Harry began, but Louis was already up, letting Harry stare at his butt.

“No, it’s okay,” Louis said, rifling through his drawers. “I need to do some shopping over there, anyway. Ah, the joys of having a job where I’m off on weekends. Here,” he said, throwing a shirt at Harry. “You’re _not_ getting in my car wearing nothing but a jean jacket cut-off.”

“Thanks,” Harry grimaced, and tugged off the vest. With trepidation, Harry glanced at the hyper-colorful shirt, but smiled in relief when he realized it was a Marcy Playground shirt that read _I Smell Sex and Candy_ , and that the colors the shirt look like the cover art. “You listen to Marcy Playground?” He asked as he put it on, and Louis glanced back at him, smiling.

“Not really,” he said honestly, laughing when Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “But I think everyone knows _Sex and Candy_ , right? Like, even if you don’t know it, you still know it. It’s like _Mr. Brightside_ , riding a bike, the smell of apple pie, the fourth of July, Canada’s inferiority to the U.S… You just _know_.”

Harry pulled on the shirt while Louis disappeared into the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Harry had only found one sock.

“Let’s see it,” Louis said, and gave Harry a thorough look. “Look at that,” he said mildly, smoothing the shirt over Harry’s chest. “Look at that. You look downright pretty in blue and green, don’t you?”

Harry rolled his eyes, refusing to let himself blush, and finally found his sock underneath a corner of the blanket.

“There’s eyeliner in my bathroom, if you want to cover all that pretty,” Louis added, and Harry nearly tripped over himself to run, ignoring Louis’ attempt at a conversation and trying not to wonder why he had it in the first place – that way lay boners, and Harry really just didn’t have time for that.

Harry did his eyeliner with shaky hands, knowing he’d have to text Zayn’s uncle and beg for forgiveness for being late – he was usually pretty punctual, though, so he doubted one time would be an issue – and came back within a minute, feeling much better and more attractive with his usual allotment of eyeliner on. He slid his boots onto his feet and by then, Louis was ready, wearing tan shorts and a shirt that looked like the inside of an aquarium, and he had glasses on his nose – plain, black, square frames that made him look probably ten thousand times cuter. Harry tried to be annoyed that Louis clearly resided in a strange spot in Harry’s mind – one without all the irritation everyone else lived in – but he couldn’t justify it, with the way Louis hurried like _he_ was the one who’d be late.

When Zayn’s uncle had texted back ( _after_ they’d rushed to get into the car, of course), telling him to just come in after lunch and work a few hours later than usual, Louis had suggested getting breakfast to kill some time, and Harry agreed. He found that he liked this Louis, who wasn’t so shy, though he was a great deal more soft-spoken than anyone Harry associated with usually.

Louis brought Harry to an IHOP, and most of the people looked at Harry strangely before deciding to ignore him and return to their meals. It didn’t bother Harry like it had when he just starting to wear makeup, but he was a little surprised when Louis so willingly grabbed his hand, almost claiming him and proudly showing that he was in Harry’s company for a reason.

Breakfast (well, brunch, more like) was nice, though Harry managed to get cinnamon pancake stuck to the top of his lip hoop, and Louis had laughed when he pointed it out, and they stayed at the restaurant two hours, sucking down drink after drink. It should have been a little bit awkward, spending time after they fucked when they weren’t really friends yet, and certainly weren’t a couple, but aside from the few dirty jokes Harry made and Louis blushed at, it was as normal as the previous time he’d spent with Louis.

“Do you ever play anywhere else, besides the Otto Bar?” Louis had asked, and Harry picked at his pancake for a moment.

“I play on my own, sometimes. Niall has a real job, so he can’t stay out late on week nights, and even though Josh is cool and we’re in a band together, we’re not actually friends, so I just take one of my guitars and go, sometimes. Busk on the sidewalk, or something. But no, I don’t usually play in places on my own. I think I could, but I’m not that much of an asshole. If I go anywhere big, one day, I’ll go with my band or not at all. We’re, like, The Masochists, together, you know?” Louis had nodded, and smiled.

“That’s cool,” he said, “that you’re loyal to them even though you’re not friends with them.”

“Oh, I’m – I’m friends with Niall,” Harry said. “Niall’s one of my only friends. Him and Zayn. I’m not really…good at being friends with people.”

“Why?” Louis asked, and grinned dirtily. “Because you fuck all the people you like?”

Harry laughed, rolling his eyes. “No,” he emphasized, “but because it usually takes me a long time to let my guard down around people, and by then, they all just think I’m an asshole by nature.” He shrugged, knowing the words sounded a little self-pitying even though he didn’t really mind.

Louis, though, looked a little stricken. “But you’re – you’re really nice,” he protested, looking frustrated when Harry laughed. “You _are_ , you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

“That’s because I’m attracted to you,” Harry explained. “I was nice because, to be honest, I wanted to pull. And then, once I spent more than five seconds with you, I stopped wanting to pull and started just wanting to hang out.”

“So, why’d you sleep with me, last night?” Louis asked, looking down at his omelet, looking a little uncertain.

“Because I wanted to,” Harry said, instinctively wondering if it was a trap. “I like spending time with you, I think you’re really attractive, and I’m hardly gonna say no to sleeping with you.”

Louis nodded, chewing on his lip. “Listen, I don’t – I’ve never slept with someone I wasn’t dating,” he confessed.

Harry was taken aback, a little bit, but Louis looked embarrassed, and Harry believed him. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “That’s alright. I’m not about to, like…never see you again, am I? Are you gonna drop me off and never come to the bar again?”

Louis picked at his food, pushing a piece of egg and cheese around the plate. “Would that…would you prefer that?” He asked, deliberately not looking up.

Harry tried to think of not seeing Louis anymore, and realized that the entire week before, he’d been counting down the days until Friday, in both excitement for the gig _and_ hoping to see Louis. He touched his fingers to Louis’ to get his attention, and shook his head. “I’d _like_ to keep seeing you. You make performing more fun, and I like hanging out with you afterwards.” Louis smiled and blushed, but looked hesitant still, so Harry swallowed and added, “If you – if it’s bothering you, I’m not expecting anymore sex. That’s not, like, a prerequisite, or anything.”

Louis looked up at him again, finally, and a smile spread on his lips. “Thanks,” he said quietly, and Harry nodded. “But – uhm, but if I…if we _did_ …sleep together again. Would that…confuse you?”

Harry shook his head slowly, thinking through his words carefully. “Sex is sex, Louis,” he said eventually. “If we get along well as friends and we want to have sex and it doesn’t mess with our friendship, I don’t see why it’d be a problem. But if – if you have an issue with, like, blurring boundaries, or anything…like you just said you’d never slept with anyone you weren’t dating…” Harry trailed off, tilting his head to try and prompt Louis into making his decision.

“It’s just – I’ve never, uhm. Slept with someone like you,” he said, and Harry had to swallow a second time to get his pancake down.

So, it was about how Harry looked. He really should have figured that out – Louis was always asking questions about all sorts of things; of _course_ , he’d be curious as to what a sex relationship would be like with someone who looked like Harry! It was only natural, really, and it wasn’t as if Harry had slept with many guys who dressed like businessmen and looked like sweet, innocent twinks; he’d been a little curious, too.

“Well,” Harry said, smirking, “say the word, and I’ll be in your bed. If you don’t, that’s fine, and I’ll say goodbye with a smile and wait to hang out until the next time. Sex isn’t the be all, end all for me. It’s great, but I’m fine hanging out with hot people and not getting laid.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked, smiling a little, himself.

Harry snorted. “Have you _seen_ Zayn?” He asked. “And Niall’s pretty hot, too, them blue eyes and blond hair. Like a nice, hot, male Ellen DeGeneres. About as funny, too.”

Louis laughed loudly, unabashed while he pushed his fingers between Harry’s. People looked curiously, and Harry could understand their confusion at what they saw: a sweet young man laughing joyously with his fingers between the dark-painted fingers of a punk, heavy makeup and piercings, messy hair and provocative clothes. Louis calmed down and must have seen Harry looking around, because he started looking at the people who were looking at them, making snooty faces.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, amused when a woman got offended and snapped her attention back to her family.

“Just letting them know how it feels to be gawked at,” Louis said, shrugging.

Harry laughed and squeezed Louis’ hand. “Lou, Lou. It’s fine, stop doing that,” he said, chuckling when Louis stuck his tongue out at a mid-50’s man. “It’s okay; they’re just curious.”

Louis looked at Harry shrewdly. “It doesn’t bother you?” He asked, and Harry shook his head.

“It doesn’t bother me at _all_ ,” he said honestly. Harry’s phone vibrated and he glanced down at it, reading a text from Zayn. “Wanna go meet up with Zayn?” Harry asked, giving Louis the option. “He wants to go find something for his sister’s birthday, and he’s awful at gifts. Are you any good at love?”

Louis hummed, smiling as he flagged the waiter down, and asked for the check. Louis handed his credit card over before Harry could even dig for his wallet, and waved off Harry’s protests. “At love? I’m okay at it,” he said, “but I’m especially great at gifts for sisters. Five sisters,” he said, and Harry was appropriately horrified. It must have shown on his face, because Louis laughed. “It wasn’t that bad; I love it,” he said happily. The way his face lit up, Harry had to believe him. “I’m seven years older than my oldest sister. They’re all younger. So I got to be the big, strong, cool brother, but also the really nice one, since their dad and my mom are married. It’s always fun to go home; they’re always excited to see me.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry said, throwing down bills for the tip in defiance to Louis, who just rolled his eyes and accepted with easy grace. “Actually, no, I’m lying. That sounds awful and terrifying.”

Louis just laughed again and shook his head, getting up and tugging Harry toward the exit. “Let’s go meet Zayn,” he said, and Harry smiled.

\---

By the time the next Friday rolled around, Harry had seen Louis every day between, and, though they hadn’t had sex again, Harry was feeling a definite soft spot growing for the man. Zayn and, unfortunately, Niall had both noticed, as it was unusual for Harry to spend time with anyone other than them, truthfully, unless it was someone interested in a gig for The Masochists.

So, when Harry walked into the tattoo shop that morning, he wasn’t surprised to immediately hear kissy noises from Zayn, though he wished he would have been. “Where’s lover boy?” Zayn asked, and Harry forced himself to remain impassive.

“Oh, are you seeing someone?” He asked, walking past Zayn and heading to his room.

“Awe, come on,” Zayn called, laughing. “Don’t be like that! Give me the details!”

“What do you want to hear?” Harry asked, leaving the door open and sitting down on his rolling chair. “I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t see people.”

“But you _want_ to,” Zayn said, leaning against Harry’s doorframe when Harry looked up from his table.

Harry sighed, putting together and taking apart his tattoo gun out of habit, checking to make sure everything was working fine. “You know, I _can_ make friends,” he said loftily. “It’s happened before, in real life. Why do you think you’re in my phone?”

Zayn looked at him with a face full of disbelief. “Harry, you are _not_ that boy’s friend.”

Harry sighed. “Yes, I am,” he said firmly. “We’re not dating, but I enjoy his company. He comes to my performances, unlike _some_ of my friends. He texts me during the day, and he just so happens to be gay. And hot.”

“So, you _do_ think he’s hot,” Zayn prompted, looking smug in catching Harry up, but Harry refused to be trapped.

He sighed impressively, pointing his tattoo gun at Zayn and tapping the pedal with his foot. It wasn’t very intimidating, he knew, but it was all he had as ammo against Zayn. “Christ, Zayn, I’m not _blind_. There’s nothing wrong with having hot friends. You’re a hot friend. Niall’s a hot friend. Gemma is, objectively, a very attractive young woman. Now, I’ve just added another friend, who also happens to look more like a model than a circus freak.”

“Are circus freaks ugly, or is that really just the makeup and stuff they wear?” Zayn asked, rubbing at his chin. Harry was about to reply, but then he started wondering, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“Okay,” Harry conceded eventually, “maybe I misspoke about circus freaks. The point is,” he insisted, “I have a new friend. You’re supposed to be happy for me; you’re always griping at me for never getting out.”

“Hey, I’m happy for you,” Zayn defended, and then grinned evilly, “just not for making a friend. I’m happy because you have a boyfriend.”

Harry looked around for something to throw, but Zayn was already gone by the time he’d gotten his hands on a stack of business cards Zayn’s uncle wanted him to start passing out.

\---

By the time Harry walked into the Otto Bar, he was irritated. Zayn had been ridiculous all day, teasing Harry and following him even during lunch break, cooing stupidly every time Harry so much as glanced at his phone. ( _“Oooh, who’s texting you?” “Your dad, thanking me for a night well-spent. Now, fuck off.”_ ) The worst part of all of it was that it made Harry start to wonder. As he pasted on the blueprints of the American flag on an old veteran’s shoulder, Harry had started to wonder if he _did_ want to date Louis, and had come to the conclusion that, to his own horror, he didn’t think he would mind being Louis’ boyfriend.

But the point was moot, anyway, because Louis himself had said he’d never slept with anyone like Harry before. Louis was simply curious about what being in a punk’s company might mean. He didn’t have feelings for Harry; he just thought Harry was decent company and hot enough to fuck once. It didn’t mean anything, and Harry knew he’d have to knock it off unless Louis changed his mind.

Harry must have made Zayn feel bad for not coming to his gig the week before when he mentioned Louis came to them, because he was there nearly fifteen minutes before Harry was set to take the stage. Ordinarily, Harry would be glad – he always loved having people he cared about come to see him in his element, doing what he loved more than anything – but after the day Zayn had given him, Harry glowered at his drink, simply so he wouldn’t glare at his friend.

“Hey, Harry!” Zayn called. Harry simply nodded, and coughed when Zayn thumped him on the back while he was taking a drink. “Sorry,” Zayn apologized, but then, his face lit up. “Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend?”

Harry’s head whipped around and saw Louis coming through the door, nearly half an hour earlier than he and his friend Liam usually did. When Louis saw Harry, he smiled waved a little before looking at the floor, shy at first sight, like usual. Harry found himself smiling and wondering why Louis was there so early. Zayn nudged Harry, though, and ruined it all.

“You’re a rain cloud on a sunny day; you know that, right?” Harry asked, scowling at his friend, who just rolled his eyes. “Don’t say anything to him about it,” Harry said lowly, staring at Zayn as seriously as possible.

Zayn’s eyes widened for a short moment, and then he looked sad for a second. He nodded, though, so Harry sighed a little in relief before he turned around to greet Louis and his friend. Louis hugged him tight for a second, and Harry rocked them side to side until he realized Niall or Josh could walk in at any time. He pulled back, and Louis looked a little taken aback at the abrupt change, but Harry plastered a very, very fake grin on his face and said hello to Liam, who smiled very, very sincerely in return and offered his hand.

Harry and Zayn tried to interact normally with Liam (well, Harry tried; Zayn just did it, because he wasn’t socially impaired like Harry, apparently), and Harry could tell Louis was watching him critically, probably realizing how honest Harry had been the other day, about not being good with people. Harry tried, knowing through several conversations that Liam was very important to Louis, not wanting to make Louis think he just didn’t care.

It was almost as if Harry was accidentally trying to prove to Louis that he’d be a good boyfriend. Harry wanted Louis to see that, given the chance, he _could_ impress people, even though in truth, he really had never tried. As ridiculous a thought it was, Harry knew Zayn was noticing it, too, and he excused himself the very second he saw Josh walk through the door, pretending like he and his band were late getting to setup.

When Josh nudged Harry and told him that Niall had just pulled up in the van, Harry looked back to where Louis, Liam, and Zayn were sitting, and saw that Louis was talking to Zayn and laughing with him as if he’d known him all his life. Just before Harry left through the back entrance to help, Louis looked over at Harry and smiled at him, wiggling his fingers maybe an inch above the surface of their table. Heat fluttered somewhere around Harry’s chest, but also in his stomach, and Harry knew for certain: he wanted to be someone Louis would date. And since he wasn’t good at socializing, wasn’t very smart (unlike Louis, who’d managed to get a 2360 on his SAT in high school on the first try), and was more of an experimental phase for Louis, Harry would have to do the one thing he knew how to do best: be irresistible.

The Masochists took the stage about five minutes early, so they played the instrumental for _Sister Christian_ , by Night Ranger – it was a song neither Harry’s nor Niall’s vocal chords could stretch to sing properly, even though they both loved it, so instrumental was the only way they’d ever be able to go.

When it was time, Harry stepped up to the stage, wanting to be the best performer Louis would ever see. “How are we doing, Otto Bar?” He asked, smiling. His fingers wiggled as he felt the adrenaline and blood rush through all his extremities, excited, and said, “I’m Harry, lead singer for The Masochists, and we’re gonna play a few songs for you – hope that’s alright. We’re gonna start off with some Scorpions; hope you guys like it!”

They started off strong with _Rock You Like A Hurricane_ again, because Harry liked the way he got to sing the most filthy stuff in such a pornographic way, and he was sweaty with his performance by the time it was done, aiming most of his lyrics towards Louis. Next, they performed Aerosmith’s _Walk This Way_ , and Niall chimed in with Harry on most of the verses, adding a little extra meat, since Harry had a hard time moving his mouth so fast. It was mostly about going down on girls, which Harry had very little interest in, but Harry had fun singing it, anyway, reveling in the fact that he was singing music his mother would have snuck out to go and see in the utmost rebellion from Harry’s grandmother.

Louis was squirming on his stool when Harry cupped his cock and ran his hand down his body suggestively during his performance, and Harry playfully turned around and shook his ass when he sang _Hurt So Good_ by John Cougar. When they went back to Whitesnake, playing _Slide It In_ , Harry thrust his hips and grinded against his mic stand, unbuttoning his shirt and touching his cock again through his jeans. Aerosmith’s _Love In An Elevator_ was really just cruel of Harry, but he knew if Louis could say no to him sexually, there’d never be a place for Harry in his heart. So, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it out as they played _Love Gun_ by Kiss, and Louis stared, licking his lips absent-mindedly. Finally, Harry grabbed a rag to mop the sweat from his face and chest when he gave Niall a nod. Niall grinned dirtily, loving the direction for the night’s setlist, and they started _Cherry Pie_ , by Warrant.

People had been dancing – not a lot, but more and more people had started coming once word of The Masochists had spread – but Louis stayed in his seat, hands in his lap and eyes growing wider the more sexual Harry got on stage. When Harry basically shouted, “Swinging to the bass in the back of my car,” Louis’ jaw dropped, since Harry slid his hand underneath his pants, his jeans tight enough to show the crowd he was actually grabbing his cock, flesh to flesh.

Cheers erupted once the song was over, and Harry spread his arms wide, like he was soaking them up through osmosis, or something. “Thank you!” He shouted into his microphone, breathing heavily and smiling wide. “Thank you! Thank you for having us back here tonight! On the drums is Josh, guitar and backing vocals are covered by the fabulous Niall, and I’m Harry; again, we’re The Masochists. Thank you! We’ll be back next Friday night, make sure you come and see us!”

Harry avoided looking Louis in the eye and jogged back to Niall’s van in the hopes he’d left a shirt somewhere in the pigsty that was his vehicle. He lucked out and grabbed a black The Killers band tee, and sprayed half a can of Axe on it, since he wasn’t sure when Niall had worn it last. By the time Harry got back into the bar, though, he was a little self-conscious, wondering if Louis had liked the performance, or if he’d thought Harry was being silly, or even worse, pushing sex onto him after he’d specifically said sex wasn’t the be all, end all of a relationship with someone.

“Go on,” Niall said as soon as he saw Harry, laughing and sweaty and pulling apart Josh’s drum set.

“What?” Harry asked, wondering if Niall had been speaking earlier and he hadn’t noticed.

Niall shook his head, though. “Whoever you’re trying to impress, just go, man. That was the best show I’ve ever seen you do; me and Josh can get this stuff. Go home and fuck whoever it is through a wall. You deserve it, after that.”

Harry could have kissed Niall, but also he wanted to cry a little. What if Louis was upset?

Gathering his courage, and reminding himself that he was a grown man who wore enough makeup and piercings on his face to scare small children and old grandparents, Harry thanked Niall and Josh, stood up straight, and walked out to the floor. As he went, people thumped him on the back and kept wanting him to stop and talk, but Harry only pasted on his go-to (fake) smile and kept on towards the table he’d had his eyes on the whole night.

“Hey, good show,” Zayn began when Harry appeared through the crowd. Louis wasn’t sitting with them.

“Thanks,” Harry said, trying to swallow the sudden crippling disappointment. Liam was still there, but _Louis_ hadn’t stayed? Harry’s mind told him not to panic, that leaving early was probably why Louis had _arrived_ earlier than usual, and that Louis would probably text Harry later or the next day, explaining.

Liam was smiling at Harry with a glint in his eye, and Harry was irritated, wanting to know what the _fuck_ he wanted, but before he could say anything, he felt a hand, warm and clammy, slide into his.

Harry turned around and saw Louis, his eyes dark and face unreadable. Well, not unreadable. He was either very, very angry or very, very horny, and judging by the fact that he was holding Harry’s hand, Harry was pretty sure it was the latter option. “Hi,” Harry began, but Louis interrupted him.

“We’re going home; are you close?” He asked, already pulling Harry away.

Harry didn’t bother saying goodbye to Zayn or Liam, choosing to follow Louis out the door and to his car. “I’m five minutes down,” he said as he ducked into his seat.

Louis didn’t answer, but as soon as he started the car and pulled out of his parking spot, he placed his hand high up on Harry’s thigh, making Harry’s breath hitch. The ride was a short one, Louis speeding by at least ten, and he slammed on his brakes when Harry pointed to a spot he could park, getting out of the car and locking it before Harry even shut his door.

Harry urgently led the way up the stairs, since the elevator to his shitty apartment was broken, and he would have been embarrassed about the state of his place was if Louis hadn’t leaned against the door and yanked Harry flush against him, kissing the daylights out of him.

Harry’s mind took a second to catch up, but Louis wasn’t waiting. His tongue slid filthily into Harry’s surprised and open mouth, riding against Harry’s tongue, and he pulled Harry’s wrist down to place his hand right on his bulging cock, hard in his pants. “I’m gonna ride you tonight,” Louis said loudly, just before he bit Harry’s collarbone.

Harry groaned at both the information and the bite, loving the pain, and pulled away to yank Louis’ hand. He pulled Louis towards his bedroom, sweeping the pile of clothes from his bed and hoping Louis wouldn’t realize he’d spent an actual hour trying to decide _which black t-shirt_ he’d wear over his skin-tight jeans.

Louis kissed Harry hard, though, and tugged at the hem of his shirt until Harry pulled it over his head, and Harry didn’t even get a chance to toss the shirt down before Louis was pulling him into another bruising kiss, leaving Harry overwhelmed and desperate to have his cock inside this beautiful man. He tugged blindly at Louis’ tie, and had a brief moment of happiness that, when he pulled the tie over Louis’ head, it didn’t get stuck on his nose, or anything stupid, like in _Friends_ , with Ross and Rachel.

“Something funny about the way you teased me all night?” Louis asked, and Harry’s absent-minded giggles stopped abruptly.

“Uhm,” he began.

Louis cut him off, pushing him down onto the bed. Harry fell on his back, but pushed himself up on his elbows to watch Louis slowly unbutton his cuffs and then the line up to his collar. “I come to watch your shows every week, despite having been born in the 90’s and not even enjoying rock. I come to support _you_ , and watch _you_ , and you act like a little slut onstage, showing everyone what you’ve got to offer. You’d probably fuck anyone who asked, wouldn’t you?”

Completely shocked, Louis’ scolding was _turning him on_. Harry rapidly shook his head, almost afraid of Louis thinking that he’d go home with anyone but him.

Louis leaned in suddenly, stormy eyes clearing, and looked at Harry very seriously. “Is this okay?” He asked in an almost-whisper, and Harry swallowed and nodded emphatically, nearly giving himself a headache from it. Louis smiled sincerely, and then leaned back up with a sneer as he pulled his shirt off slowly, making Harry watch.

“You weren’t a good boy at _all_ ,” he intoned, sounding disinterested, and Harry found his stomach dropping. Louis started unbuckling his belt, and pulled it quickly through all the loops without a single snag, bunching it up, making Harry wonder if he was going to hit him with it, and finding, not really to his surprise, that he wasn’t all too opposed to the possibility.

Louis didn’t hit him, though. He tossed the belt to the floor, stepped out of his shoes, and pulled his pants and underwear down in one swift go. Next, he pulled Harry’s boots and socks off, and said, “Luckily, you looked fucking _filthy_.” Louis grabbed Harry by the ankles and tugged hard, pulling Harry to slide down the bed until his feet touched the floor when Louis dropped hold of his ankles. “So, I’ll save you the punishment this time. I’m gonna ride you,” he continued conversationally, as if none of this affected him, despite his cock looking angry and painfully hard. Louis unbuttoned Harry’s pants, though he was looking Harry in the eyes, and added, “Until _I_ come, of course. You’re not allowed to come until I say. Think you can do that?”

Harry nodded rapidly, even though he wasn’t sure, and lifted his hips up when Louis peeled him out of his jeans.

“I’d tell you to stop wearing jeans so tight, but I’m afraid you’d actually stop wearing jeans so tight, and you should never, ever do that. Love how good you look in these jeans. It’s like seeing you naked in public; it’s great. Where’s your lube?”

Harry, mouth still wide open, scrambled to turn at the torso and reach underneath his bed, where he pulled a shoebox full of lubes and condoms and a black vibrator. He blushed when Louis held up the sex toy, but Louis only winked at him and put it back, picking out a bottle of lube and a condom and tossing the box back onto the floor.

“Open me up?” Louis offered, and Harry nodded, snatching the lube from him and opening it even as he scooted back on the bed so Louis could join him.

Instead of laying down, like Harry thought he would, Louis climbed on top of Harry and straddled him, leaning on his knees and hands to kiss Harry’s neck. Harry slicked up his fingers and circled his first around Louis’ hole, finding that, miraculously, he was looser than he had been the week before.

A flare of jealousy coursed through him, even as Louis kissed at his collar bones, and he slid his finger into Louis a little dejectedly, which was ridiculous, seeing as he was about to have _sex_ with this gorgeous hunk of man.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked, like he could tell Harry’s mood by the way he was fingering him, or something. Reality set in, then, and Harry realized that Louis could obviously see his face. Duh.

“Nothing,” Harry lied, a little embarrassed by his ridiculous possessiveness over someone who wasn’t dating him.

“No, tell me,” Louis said, and then sighed when Harry gave nothing away. Harry stilled his finger inside Louis when the man pushed himself up high on his hands and looked Harry in the eye. “Is it the role play? We don’t have to do it, seriously.”

Harry shook his head, though, and chewed on his lip rings until he blurted, “I’m being a baby because you’ve slept with someone else.” Louis mouth opened into a shocked ‘o’, and Harry babbled on. “I know, it’s stupid, like I said, it’s nothing, I’m being ridiculous –”

Louis interrupted Harry’s babbling with a kiss and then a giggle, biting on his lip ring playfully. “I haven’t slept with anyone else,” he said, continuing over Harry’s explanation. “I…got a little horny thinking about you over lunch, is all. I’m sorry. I thought I’d be back to normal by now.”

Relief flooded through Harry’s constricted chest, and he was suddenly even more embarrassed than before. “I…uhm, no, that’s. That’s, you know…”

Louis laughed again and sucked a tiny mark on the underside of Harry’s chin, and wiggled his hips to remind Harry that he had a finer inside of him. “Get back to it, then,” he said, and paused before adding, “slut.”

Harry took a sharp gasp of air and let Louis kiss him, sliding another finger in with little resistance. Louis hummed and started tonguing the side of Harry’s neck, brushing his lips against Harry’s skin repeatedly while Harry swallowed hard and scissored his fingers out. He brushed Louis’ prostate over and over again until Louis started groaning into the crook of his neck, and then pressed his third finger in, stroking at his walls softly.

Louis was circling his hips by the time Harry deemed him ready, mouthing at Harry’s chest and driving him insane. “Come on, Louis,” Harry grunted, reaching for the condom he needed.

He rolled it onto himself carefully, silently hoping for a non-breaking one this time, and Louis pushed up on Harry’s chest to sit up straight. He grabbed Harry’s cock firmly and guided it slowly into him, sliding down inch by inch in an agonizingly slow pace.

Harry was a little embarrassed to be panting by the time Louis fully seated on his cock, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on the way Louis couldn’t stop making the sweetest little noises, eyes closed and nostrils flared just a little as he circled his hips to get used to the stretch.

“Shit, you feel even bigger like this,” Louis groaned, letting his head loll back, and Harry grinded his hips up just enough that Louis’ body rose, too, his breath hitching and coming out on a whine. “Be good,” he snapped, and it was so shocking that Harry obeyed.

Louis took another moment to adjust, and then he rose up enough to sit high on his knees. He grabbed Harry’s hands and tucked them between his back and the mattress, and Louis immediately rolled his hips back down to show Harry that he didn’t want him to touch. Harry tapped his teeth onto his lip ring, and Louis nodded in approval when Harry didn’t move otherwise.

Louis bounced on his cock hard, dragging ragged breaths out of Harry and making him dizzy. Louis was tight around him and the friction, even through the condom, was incredible on his cock. Harry’s hands clenched the sheet under the dip of Harry’s back, and Harry was panting by the time Louis started whimpering.

“Love riding,” Louis moaned, leaning forward again. He put his hands on Harry’s chest and pressed his weight down on his hands, hips swiveling rapidly until Harry gasped and came, spilling into the condom. Louis started jerking his cock and kept riding through Harry’s orgasm, sending shooting shocks of pleasure around Harry’s cock and up his spine.

When Harry started getting soft, Louis finally pulled off, and Harry stopped being still and plunged two fingers into his hole, jamming his fingertips against Louis’ prostate and fucking them deeper, never removing contact with the gland. Louis cried out, shocked, and came over his hand and Harry’s stomach, painting both their skin white.

Louis panted hotly into Harry’s neck while Harry dizzily pulled off his condom, tying it and tossing it to the side, where his trashcan would (hopefully) catch it.

“Holy shit, that was so good,” Louis expelled in a guttural groan against Harry’s Adam’s apple, and Harry laughed lightly and traced up and down Louis’ spine.

“That _was_ good,” he agreed, and kissed Louis’ forehead when he looked up. “Staying here tonight?” He asked, and Louis nodded, groaning and _thump_ ing over to Harry’s left side, resting his head against Harry’s shoulder and drawing his fingers through his come on Harry’s stomach.

“Your body’s incredible,” he mused quietly, and Harry felt a flush of heat spread on his shoulder momentarily, and guessed Louis had just blushed.

“Thank you,” he said evenly, drawing lines down Louis’ fingers. “I like yours, too.”

“What are all these tattoos for?” Louis asked, and Harry grimaced, though he knew Louis couldn’t see his face.

“Some of them don’t mean much of anything; I just like them, I guess,” he hedged.

“And the rest?” Louis prompted gently, like he wouldn’t mind if Harry didn’t answer.

“The rest…some of them are really, like, deep, and personal, and stuff. Some of them are just things I got to remember people and places – I’ve got a microphone on my side with a date hidden in the shading, from The Masochists’ first performance as a band. Obviously, you’ve probably noticed this thing,” he said, poking at his come-covered butterfly tattoo on his stomach. “It’s got really heavy lines the higher it goes up, which sort of…alludes to the, like, transformation I’ve had since I was about…twelve, thirteen. I used to be pretty angry, but never was good at vocalizing it, and, I don’t know. I guess, I got less angry every time I put makeup on, or got a piercing, or a tattoo. It makes me feel attractive, and like I’m more _me_ , I guess, and that’s kind of part of it, I guess.”

Louis shifted to look up at Harry, who smiled a little uncertainly. Louis stretched his neck to kiss Harry’s cheek. “You’re sweet,” he said quietly, and Harry snorted. “You _are_ ,” Louis protested, laughing a little bit. “But I meant more, like, you’re sensitive, I guess. But you don’t like to think about it, it doesn’t seem like.”

“Does headhunting give you psychological powers, or are you just intuitive?” Harry asked dryly, and Louis rolled his eyes, settling back down.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded with a smile, reaching for something to wipe Harry’s tummy off. “I’ll shut up and go to sleep, you win.”

Harry made an agreeable noise and curled up around Louis, happy and calm once his bed partner got still and passed out.

\---

Sunday night, Harry made his way to the bar for his first day training.

Nick greeted him with a friendly smile, holding his arms out for a hug Harry didn’t want to give. He didn’t move away when Nick hugged him, though, since he only had this job because he’d sucked Nick’s cock a few times, and Nick patted him on the shoulder.

“Harry, let me introduce you to everyone,” he said as he pulled Harry behind the bar. “This is Tom; his girlfriend works days and he works nights, but he’s a great bartender, so if you need help, just ask him.” Harry nodded, and Nick steered him towards a man with wild, red hair, who waved and offered Harry a small smile, and Nick said, “This is Ed. Ed, this is Harry; be nice to him and don’t talk his ear off.” Ed scoffed, and Nick pulled Harry back towards the middle of the bar.

“It’s relatively easy,” he said, pulling a sheet from underneath the bar and taping it to the top. “This is a cheat sheet. If it’s not on here, ask Tom or Ed, but most likely, we don’t serve it because of the alcohol content. Card _everyone_ , even if it’s a woman with white hair and tits down to her ankles. There’ll be a few guys who give you shit for carding them, but they’re just trying to assert dominance over you. Remember: you have the power. Without you, they don’t get served. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone without providing reason – ah, gotta love New York state rules – so if someone pisses you off, starts acting too bad, or is just generally unpleasant to be around, you can cut them off.

“Tabs are a little more confusing,” Nick continued, and Harry chewed on his lip ring. “so just write everything down. It’s okay if you have to keep asking people for their name; it’s better being repetitive than charging a guy seventy dollars for the two beers he had, right?” Harry nodded. “Right. So, you’re gonna go on back and take a few little quizzes on the computer in the office, get used to recipes and labels and stuff, and once you’re done, come let me know and we’ll work the floor for a little, okay?”

Harry nodded, and Nick clapped his shoulder and took him into the back office. He started up the computer and gave Harry a chair, pulling up some website that had a few links. “Take all four of these,” he said, hovering the mouse over a few links, “and take them over and over again until you make over an eighty percent on each of them. Accuracy is _really_ important, so it’s okay if it takes you a while, as long as you’re improving. Also, no cheating. Don’t use your phone, or anything, alright?”

Harry nodded again, and Nick stared at him for a moment, finally smiling and saying, “You’re gonna have to get used to talking to people, Harry, or you’ll never get tips.” He clapped Harry’s shoulder one last time and left before Harry had time to think of a response, so Harry shrugged and started the first quiz.

It wasn’t _awful_ ; Harry only took a few times to make an eighty or above on all four of the quizzes. When he came out to see Nick, Nick looked a little surprised that he was back so soon. “You’re twenty-two?” He asked, and Harry nodded. “Hmm. Awfully familiar with alcohol, aren’t we, young Harry?”

Harry grinned a little sheepishly, but Nick only seemed amused as he pulled Harry out from behind the bar. “I thought I was gonna bartend,” Harry said slowly, and Nick nodded.

“You will,” he said, “but I can’t let you on the first _night_. Christ, Harry, they’d shut me down in a second! You haven’t even played about with measuring. Tonight, you’re gonna be a waiter of sorts. Clean tables when people leave, flit from place to place, asking if they need anything. Here’s a shirt and apron,” Nick added, thrusting a wad of clothes into Harry’s hands. “Go change into those. You can leave your button-up on over it, if you want, but you can’t button it up. People need to be able to see you work for us, or they’ll think you’re some strange emo kid asking them for drinks. If you want to take the shirt off, just leave it in the office; nobody goes in there. Before you leave, I’ll give you a few more shirts, because nobody wants to wash the same shirt every day. Go on, go change, meet me back here.”

Harry made his way slowly to the bathroom and locked the stall behind him. He changed shirts, leaving the flannel unbuttoned, and tied the apron around his waist, rolling his eyes at how stupid he looked. He took a picture of himself and sent it to Louis, sending after it, _Do I look official enough to wipe your table off now??_

Harry decided to pee while he was there, and as he washed his hands, his phone went off with a response. _U can wash my tables any time, big boy.;P_

Harry laughed in the bathroom and rolled his eyes, tucking his phone back into his pocket and meeting Nick by the bar, where he was sitting on a stool and nursing a coke.

“Good,” he said, looking Harry up and down. “Alright. So, first things first, I think we need to get you a rag…hold on.” Nick leaned over the bar, reaching with his long arms, and his hand reappeared with a damp rag. “Wipe of tables when you see people leave,” he instructed. “Nobody wants to sit at a dirty table, and most of the folks who come in on slow nights – Sunday night through Wednesday night, basically – are the white collar types, like the guy you’ve been taking home since you got the gig.”

Harry’s head snapped up to meet Nick’s eyes, bewildered. “I – what?” He asked, not accustomed to being called on his shit.

Nick rolled his eyes, though he looked impressed. “Harry, relax,” he said. “I already know you’re gay, remember? I found that out for myself, more than once.” Harry swallowed and looked around, and Nick grabbed a shoulder of his. “And I’m not about to tell you you can’t take home patrons. You can’t if they’re drunk; that _is_ a policy, and you’ll be fired if I ever see you do it. But, had Louis said yes to me any time I asked before, I’d have _definitely_ had him. He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Harry made himself say. “You, uhm. You’ve asked him to come home with you?”

Nick snorted. “Many a time, I’m afraid. I’m not good with rejection. Thought maybe he needed someone to chase him and try to woo him, but, you know. He’s not really that type, I’m assuming, as he went home with you straight away.”

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t hit on him at first,” he said truthfully, and Nick, to Harry’s horror, nodded, like he was mentally taking down notes. “He likes the grungy type,” Harry added, lying through his teeth. “Likes to, uhm, date from the other side of town, if you will. Yeah, uhm, I think it’s, like, a rebellion-type thing, likes the real dirties.” Harry hoped he wasn’t blushing; _he wasn’t Louis’ boyfriend – this was stupid_.

Nick hummed, looking disappointed a little, but shrugged it off. “Can’t win ‘em all, I suppose,” he mused, scratching at his chest, and Harry nodded emphatically, probably making an idiot of himself. “Anyway,” Nick said after a moment, “go wash the tables, and don’t talk to people while you’ve got a dirty rag in your hand, unless they ask you for something. A request always comes before wiping a table off, though. Hmmm.” Nick tapped at his chin, unable to think of anything else, and finally gave up. “You’re here for three hours,” he said eventually, “so don’t do anything stupid.”

He clapped Harry on the back and walked behind the bar, smiling when people cheered for him excitedly, and Harry started wiping off tables.

By the time he had half an hour left to his shift, he’d been spilled on four times, stepped on six times, had his ass grabbed by two girls who blushed when he turned around to glare, and had been yelled at once by some drunk asshole. He was ready to throw in the towel and go home, but he wanted the extra money as a safety net just in case more than he wanted to massage his feet, so he soldiered on, getting more and more irate as the night wore on.

So, when a hand rubbed down his back, starting between his shoulder blades and ending by tugging at the back belt loop of his jeans, Harry was pissed. He whipped around, ready to glare his fiercest, but relaxed instantly when he saw it was Louis, who smiled a little shyly. “Been calling your name; you must not have heard,” he said, and Harry shook his head. “You look exhausted,” Louis added.

“Oh, thanks,” Harry snorted, and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Not what I meant, but you can take it however you choose.”

Harry grinned at that, and turned away to wipe off a table, Louis following him around.

“When are you off?” Louis asked, and Harry glanced at his watch.

“’Bout five minutes,” he said, smiling tiredly, and Louis touched his hand gently.

“Wanna come home with me?” He asked, and Harry bit his lip.

“I’m, uhm, probably gonna crash as soon as I stop moving, actually, so…if you’re looking for someone to keep you warm, I’m game, but, uh, if you’re looking for anything else, I’m not your man tonight,” he said, awkward from start to finish. He never thought he’d see a day he’d turn down a sex offer from Louis, but here he was, after only two and a half weeks of knowing him!

“That’s alright,” Louis said, shrugging. “We can just go to your place; I’ll sing you a lullaby.”

Harry laughed, but he nodded, and Louis sat down to wait while Harry finished up. He had some paperwork to do, and had to get the rest of his uniforms, and learned how to clock out before he went home, but once Harry was done, he walked out from behind the bar, and Louis was waiting for him.

“You manage to look a little different every time I see you,” Louis said lightly. “Do you do your makeup different ways?”

“You should see my winged eyeliner; it’s killer,” Harry said drily, though a grin made its way across his face when Louis cracked up. “I _do_ put it on differently, sometimes,” Harry said, and Louis nodded, like he’d already decided it was so himself.

“You always, uhm, look good, though,” he said, and Harry smiled down at him, leading the way to his car.

“Thanks,” he said, a little surprised, and Louis shrugged his shoulders. “You always – I mean, you always look incredible; it’s not really fair. Don’t even need makeup.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but buckled up as Harry started his car. “You don’t _need_ makeup,” he started, but Harry laughed.

“ _That’s_ not quite true,” he said. “You’ve never seen me without. It’s monstrous.”

“Oh, come on,” Louis said dubiously. Harry felt Louis looking at him with disbelief from the corner of his eye while Harry navigated the short drive home. “You’ve got a face like a freaking model, Harry; don’t act like you don’t know it.”

Harry scoffed, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to give Louis a lewd up-and-down. “Speaking of models…” he said, purposefully trailing off and looking back to the road. He saw Louis squirm, face looking a little red from the corner of his eye, and Louis just lightly slapped Harry’s arm in response.

Louis followed Harry into his apartment, seeming content with the companionable quiet. “Want anything to drink?” Harry offered, feeling like he should have made sure a buffet was ready for Louis, or something, but Louis only rolled his eyes and pushed Harry gently toward his bedroom.

“You look like you’re half-asleep; I probably shouldn’t have even let you drive,” he said, though he was smiling a little. “I can take care of myself; go ahead and go to bed.” Still, Harry hesitated a little, so Louis placed his hand on the counter and popped his hip out, sassy. “Harry, I will _not_ wake you up with a blowjob if you don’t get your punk ass in that bed,” he threatened, and it was enough to get Harry smiling, albeit tiredly, and he blew Louis a lazy kiss on his way to his bedroom, leaving Louis looking mighty self-satisfied.

Harry was half-asleep half an hour later, when he heard the TV shut off and the sounds of Louis puttering around, but he kept his eyes shut when Louis crawled into the bed next to Harry quietly.

“I know you’re awake, faker,” Louis whispered, and Harry rolled over, caught.

“I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t,” he said, poking his pierced bottom lip out, for good measure. “Do I get a morning blowjob for my efforts?” He asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully, and Louis snorted.

“Really, I just wanted to suck your cock,” he said, and even in the dark, Harry saw Louis was averting his eyes, like he’d be blushing if Harry could see. “But I also want you to go to sleep. You look tired. What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?” He asked.

Harry scooted closer, wrapping an arm around the dip in Louis’ side. “After you,” he said a little smugly, but Louis just kneed him in the thigh. “Nine,” Harry said after that, and Louis hummed.

“If you want a morning blowjob, you’ll have to be okay with waking up around five,” he said flatly, “because I have to get home and get ready, to be in the office at seven.”

Harry made a choking noise, pouting. “There’s no way I’ll make it a full day of work if I have to wake up at five,” he said, upset, but Louis leaned his head up and kissed his lips, gently.

“I’ll find a way to make it up to you,” he promised, and then turned around abruptly, letting Harry spoon up against him.

With Louis’ body against him, Harry was asleep within minutes.

\---

He woke the next day and Louis was gone, but that was no surprise; Louis worked earlier than he did, and he certainly preferred being allowed to sleep in. Harry showered, put on his eye makeup, got dressed and walked out the door, texting Louis a cheery good morning message.

It wasn’t until past noon that Louis responded, sending a simple, _coming to the shop for lunch_ that had Harry grinning like a fool. He’d already done two tattoos, and had just sent his third client on her way when there was a knock on the door to his room.

“Come on in,” Harry called, and Louis entered, smiling with a bag of McDonald’s in his hands. “Hey, Louis,” Harry greeted, but Louis ignored him and turned to lock the door. “Lou?”

Louis set down the food and pushed Harry back until he hit the tattooing lounge chair, pushing Harry up onto it and down, onto his back. “Shhh,” Louis shushed Harry when he opened his mouth to ask questions again. “I want your cock; I wanna blow you,” he whispered, face turning red as he spoke the words into Harry’s open mouth, licking up his tongue and letting his sharp incisors scrape his lip gently.

Harry moaned quietly into Louis’ mouth and didn’t stop him when he felt Louis’ hands tugging at his button and zipper. He lifted his hips up and let Louis pull his jeans halfway down his thighs, his briefs coming soon after while Louis licked into Harry’s panting mouth.

Louis gracelessly shoved up the hem of Harry’s shirt and started kissing lines down his torso, but Harry gasped when Louis suddenly fisted his cock, nearly half-hard as Louis sucked on his nipples. “Louis,” he said, but Louis just kissed his mouth again, silencing him.

“Quiet,” he reminded Harry, blushing furiously. “I’m _not_ getting arrested for being horny just because you’re a loud lay.”

Harry went to argue, but Louis stroked his cock and ducked down to suck on a nipple again, so Harry just dropped his head back against the lounge chair and let Louis take what he wanted.

Louis started scraping his teeth against Harry’s stomach muscles, and he sucked a little bruise into each wing of Harry’s butterfly tattoo. Harry’s hips jumped minutely, and he watched through half-lidded eyes while Louis kisses and sucked and scraped entire inches of is skin, sliding his fist up and down Harry’s cock until it was hard.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, then, when Louis circled the very tip of his tongue over Harry’s slit, but Harry still grunted, biting on his lip to keep the noise down. Louis smirked when he looked up at Harry, tongue still working over Harry’s cockhead, and Harry pushed a hand through Louis’ soft, straight hair and tugged just the lightest bit. Louis rewarded him by wrapping his lips around him and sucking.

Harry licked his lips and started sucking on his own bottom lip, the slight pain of the blood rushing to his bottom lip distracting him. He could hear people coming in and out, talking and the buzz of the tattoo guns and, every once in a while, the hiss of the man in the next room getting the arch of his foot tattooed. Amongst the business and people trading and talking and conducting themselves like mature adults, Harry was getting an agonizing blowjob from a man who stared into his eyes while he pressed his tongue up against the underside of Harry’s cock as he bobbed his head down Harry’s shaft.

Harry closed his eyes and rolled his head back, enjoying the feeling of Louis’ lips smacking kisses all up and down the underside of his shaft, sucking at the vein like he wanted to give it a bruise to match the one he’d left on Harry’s neck. Louis played with Harry’s dick amply, rubbing the crown over his lips several times and mouthing at his slit until his lips were cherry red. When Harry peeked down at him, Louis smiled a little shyly and hit himself on the side of the face with Harry’s dick, little slaps that made Harry’s hips twitch up. He wasn’t even sure _why_ it was hot, but fuck, it was.

“Suck it, baby,” he said quietly, reaching his long arms to wipe some of Louis’ hair away from his face and Louis paused.

“Fuck,” he said shakily.

“What?” Harry asked, a little concern in his voice when he watched Louis’ face heat up even more.

“Nothing, I just – I can see it now,” Louis answered, babbling like he was nervous. Before Harry could ask what he could see, Louis slid his hand up and back down Harry cock quickly, fist pulled tight around the shaft, and Harry licked his lips.

Louis watched Harry watch him, and then he whined, a quiet, high-pitched sound, before he wrapped his lips around Harry’s cock again. His tongue worked on Harry’s cock furiously, making Harry bite his lip a few times in an effort not to snap his hips up and fuck down Louis’ throat. Louis continued to stroke what he couldn’t reach of Harry’s cock, making amazing, frustrated sounds that vibrated over Harry’s dick.

Harry’s breath started coming shallow, and he slid his fingers further back, carding into Louis’ thick hair, wrapping gently so he wouldn’t pull.

Louis hummed at the feeling, though, and Harry let out a sharp burst of air as his hips snapped up once into Louis’ mouth, easily hitting the back of his throat.

Louis scratched at Harry’s hips at that, pulling off and looking up at him with a glare for making him gag lightly, but Harry only chased the sensation of Louis’ nails on his skin and Louis’ mouth on his cock. His hips rolled up again and Louis surprised him by taking a deep breath and swallowing him down, gagging quickly. He stayed on Harry’s cock while Harry threw his head back, biting on the back of his forearm to keep quiet, for a few seconds before pulling off, coughing and gasping.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry muttered when Louis did it again, and he tugged gently on Louis’ hair when Louis started pressing his tongue up against Harry’s cock again as he went down. “Gonna come, Louis, pull up.”

Louis finally did, cupping a hand over Harry’s cockhead and sucked on his inner thigh, jerking his shaft with the other hand until Harry tensed up, groaning as quietly as possible as his come splashed out onto Louis’ hand.

Louis had made a dark purple mark, teeth imprinted on the skin by the time Harry went nearly limp, breathing heavily while his cock jerked the tiniest bit with aftershocks. Harry pulled Louis up by his hair, away from his thigh, but Louis reached out to lick over it, looking proudly up at Harry’ face.

“Tissues over there,” Harry pointed, and Louis took the two steps to wipe his hand off, throwing the tissue into the trashcan under Harry’s desk. He grabbed some of the Germ-X Harry kept on his desk, as well, rubbing it over his sticky hands, but climbed up onto the lounge chair, straddling Harry’s hips, and kissed him even more breathless.

“What was that for?” Harry asked when Louis backed up, kissing his neck, but Louis only shrugged.

“You didn’t get one this morning; it’s only fair,” he said casually.

“Want me to do you?” Harry asked, but Louis shook his head.

“Already took care of myself before I came here,” he said, looking at his fingernails, as if he wasn’t giving Harry a stroke just by insinuation. “I’m fine.”

Harry nodded dumbly, and grabbed the back of Louis’ neck to pull him into a kiss again. Louis opened up like a flower in spring beneath Harry’s lips, tongue meeting Harry’s almost immediately, and he mewled quietly when Harry sucked on his lip. “Thank you,” Harry said when Louis pulled away to breathe, and Louis just grinned.

“My pleasure,” he said sincerely. He hopped off the chair, then, and straightened his clothes. “I’ll see you later,” he said cheerfully, and walked towards the door. “Got you a number two,” he added when he paused at the door, patting the McDonald’s bag. “No onions. Don’t want bad breath, do you? See you when I see you.” He blew a kiss to Harry, and then unlocked the door, walking out and leaving it wide open.

Harry yelped, realizing he was still in the lounge chair with his limp cock out and his jeans around his thighs. He heard Zayn greeting Louis, and Louis just laughed loudly as the chime from the parlor’s door went off.

\---

Louis texted Harry on Wednesday, just before Harry was going to training at the bar. _Hang after youre done @ Otto?_

It had been the first Harry’d heard from Louis since he’d texted the older man, thanking him again for the blowjob at work. Louis had sent back a winky face, but nothing after that. Naturally, he jumped at this new chance. _Sure thing! My place or yours?_

Harry put his phone in his pocket and clocked in, waving to Nick and nodding when Tom gave him a two-fingered salute in greeting. Harry tied his apron up and grabbed his rag, but Nick stopped him with a hand clapped onto his shoulder.

“Harry!” He said, and Harry turned around and gave him an attempt at smiling.

“Hi, Nick,” he said.

“You’re not gonna be doing the wipe-off anymore,” Nick said, smiling crookedly. “We’re going to start training you as a bartender! Ready?”

Harry nodded and dropped the rag into its bucket again, sanitizing his hands because it seemed like it’d be a health hazard otherwise. Nick led Harry back behind the bar again and pushed him towards Ed. “You’re gonna have to actually start _talking_ if you want to do this, Harry; you know that, right?”

Harry smirked and looked Nick up and down lazily. “You should know I don’t have an issue talking,” he said watching Nick fish-mouth a few times before he laughed.

“Well,” he said nudging Harry, “that’s certainly true, but you’ll piss off a lot of people if you talk to their boyfriends and girlfriends the way you talked to me. I’d be careful.” Nick thumped Harry on the cheek gently and then pointed to the cheat sheet Harry remembered being told about. “Remember, this is your god. You shouldn’t mess up. Tom’s gonna help you when he can, but you’re mostly going to be working with Ed. He’s really fast, and he’ll only intervene if you start to fuck it all up, so try not to. Work on your measuring; you’ll be helping him make mixed drinks, and I’ll be watching you like a hawk your entire shift.”

Harry nodded, not pointing out that his shift was really only three hours, and stood sort of close to Ed, smiling at a girl on the other side of the bar who was staring at him openly. Nick left, then, and Harry winked at the girl, waiting for Ed to finish the order he was working on. When he was done, Harry held out a hand.

“Hey, Ed, right?” Harry asked even though he knew.

Ed nodded with a smile and shook Harry’s hand. “Yeah. Harry, if I remember right?” Harry nodded. “Sweet. So, basically, Nick wants me to make you do all the measuring. You sort of get used to it after a while – like, I don’t really use the measuring cups anymore; I’ve got it all down. You want to start paying attention to how much each measurement fills up our cups. Luckily, we only have a few cups, so it shouldn’t take too long. You did the practice stuff on the computer already, right?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, uh, a few days ago.”

“Good,” Ed replied, and reached up on the cabinets above them to grab out a few measuring cups, setting them all in front of Harry, and slid the cheat sheet over in front of him. “Use these,” he said. “I’ll hand you over the cups; try to pay attention. Tonight, I’ll write down orders with more than two or three drinks, and maybe tomorrow, but come Friday, you’re pretty much on your own. Gotta throw you out of the nest to see if you can fly.”

“That always seemed a little extreme to me,” Harry mused quietly, smiling when Ed snorted.

Ed took orders and remained pretty friendly with all the patrons, getting his tips from people he seemed vaguely familiar with and the older people. “I don’t like to flirt with drunk people for tips,” he explained once Harry asked, noticing that Tom was a little more flirty with the patrons. “Feels a little like I’m taking advantage of their wallets. I’ve tipped hot bartenders only to wake up with a hangover and significantly lighter wallet, no numbers, and a very dry dick _way_ too many times, and I’d hate to be that person.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed, a little too loud, but only a few people stared, and Ed smiled widely back. Harry mixed drinks, and only messed one up – the cheat sheet was a little dirty and more than a little faded, and he accidentally gave someone 1/3 of vodka when he was only meant to give 1/8. The poor man gagged and coughed, slamming his drink down and breathing out a wheezy grunt, and Ed grabbed his glass and smelled it, eyes widening. He let Harry know of his mistake, and Harry felt a little bad – mostly, it was kind of funny, really – and gave the man another drink (made correctly) as a replacement.

When it was nearly half an hour past Harry’s clock-out time, Nick came and patted Harry on the shoulder. “You’ve done well, Harry, but if you stay longer, you’ll pull my overtime numbers down. Go on, clock out, and get out of here.”

Harry was a little surprised when he checked the time on his phone, but clapped Ed’s back and clocked out. His phone had three messages, and as Harry got into his car, he read them.

_Idrc we’ll go to yours since your closer_

_Harryyyyyyyyyyy you’re being worked like a slave already_

_I swear if you stood me up I’m gonna beat you like a red-headed step child. Get here!_

Harry snorted lightly as he called Louis, putting it on speaker so he could drive.

“ _Finally_ ,” Louis answered with a sigh, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I got caught up. I’m headed home now; are you still there?”

“ _Only sitting against your apartment door, looking like the creepiest creeper to ever have crept_ ,” he answered breezily. “ _Hello, sir, how are you_?” He asked, and Harry furrowed his brow in confusion until he heard someone else replying to Louis. “ _Oh, I’m just waiting for my man-friend who lives here to come home. He forgot about me_.” Harry could hear the pout in Louis’ voice and rolled his eyes, but there was more murmuring happening on the other end of the line. “ _Yeah, he’s – Harry, would you describe yourself more as_ goth _or_ punk _, do you think_?”

Harry grimaced. “Ew, punk,” he mumbled, flicking on his blinker. “And stop talking to strangers; I don’t exactly live in the nicest part of town.”

“ _He’s a punk_ ,” Louis answered, completely ignoring Harry’s advice. “ _I mean – well, he’s not an actual_ punk _; he’s actually really nice, but, you know. Dresses in punk. Makeup. Hair, skin-tight jeans. That sort_.” There was more murmuring, and if it had been anyone else, Harry would have rolled his eyes and hung up, but he listened intently until Louis said, “ _Have a nice day, then_!”

“Louis, really, talking to strangers who’re in my building isn’t really the best idea,” he said slowly, not liking the thought, but Louis just scoffed.

“ _Harry, I’ve got to die of_ something _; I might as well do it in a friendly ending._ ”

Harry grimaced, but relaxed when he turned down his street. Honestly, if he cared more about the ecosystem or whatever, he could easily walk to work every day. As it were, though…he simply didn’t. “I’m parking right now, so – just stop talking to strangers, alright?”

Louis sighed. “ _Fine_ ,” he said, acting like he was upset, and then promptly hung up.

Harry parked the car and locked it after he stepped out, heading up to his floor to find Louis _laying down in the middle of the hallway_. “Louis, this floor is disgusting; what’s wrong with you?” He hissed, looking around and heaving Louis up.

“I fainted,” Louis said flatly, eyes still closed and leaning heavily on Harry, body completely limp.

“What?”

Louis cracked one eye wide open and looked at Harry. “You left me waiting too long; I’ve fainted and I probably will die.”

Harry laughed lightly and held Louis’ body up as he unlocked his apartment door, and pulled Louis’ still-limp form in with him, his feet dragging on the wooden floor. Harry shut the door and locked the chain, tossing his keys to the side table, and dragged Louis towards the couch, letting him fall once they got there.

“Need anything to drink?” Harry asked, and Louis huffed as he elbowed his way into a sitting position.

“Just grab whatever you’re getting,” he said dismissively.

As Harry grabbed two beers, he let himself smile at how comfortable Louis had become around him in only two or three weeks since they’d met. He came back into the living room and saw Louis nosing around in his entertainment center. “What are you looking for?” He asked, and it startled Louis so much that he hit his head on the DVD drawer.

Rubbing the side of his head, Louis grinned sheepishly. “I was just being nosy,” he said, a little bit of a blush on his face.

Harry shrugged and spread his arms out wide, inviting. “Have at it, if you want; just don’t freak out when you find the dead bodies.”

Louis laughed lightly, and then harder when Harry kept a stoic face for a few seconds before cracking up, himself. “No dead bodies,” Harry admitted, “but seriously. You’re welcome to be nosy; it’s not like I mind. Nothing you’d find is off-limits.”

“Oh, so there’s _something_ I’m not allowed to look through?” Louis asked, catching on quickly to Harry’s specific wording.

“Yes,” Harry said, and Louis seemed to accept it as his answer, because he just grinned and took the beer from Harry’s left hand and latched the bottle top’s ridges on a side table. He slammed his hand down on it and tipped the bottle, opening it easily and sitting on the couch smugly.

Harry lifted an eyebrow, not wanting to admit how endearing that had been. Louis’ hands weren’t rough enough to withstand the pressure from the metal ridges enough to twist it off. How cute. Harry kept eye contact with Louis and wrapped his fingers around the bottle top, twisting in one sharp motion, and heard the hiss. Louis scowled and pouted, and Harry chuckled throatily as he tossed the cap to Louis.

Harry turned away to open the DVD drawer, since it didn’t seem like Louis was in the mood for anything physical. “Movie?” He asked, and Louis groaned. “What?” Harry asked, looking over his shoulder.

“You’ve probably got really shitty movies, don’t you?” Louis asked, and approached Harry’s back. He stood on his toes, resting some weight on Harry’s shoulder, and looked through the drawer. “You – okay, not what I expected,” he admitted, and Harry smirked. “I vote _Thor 2_ ,” he announced loudly in Harry’s ear. “Chris Hemsworth is _so_ fucking hot.”

Harry didn’t necessarily _disagree_ , but he certainly wasn’t as into the man as Louis seemed to be. Then again, he typically went for guys who looked…a little more like himself. Louis wasn’t Harry’s usual type, really, and it seemed fitting that he wasn’t Louis’, either.

Harry already knew it, obviously, but it still stung to think about, a little bit. “Can I kiss you?” He blurted, and Louis looked shocked.

“I – sure, Harry,” he said eventually, and Harry didn’t give him a chance to take it back.

He surged forward, wrapping his arm around Louis’ waist, and pressed their lips together, wasting no time in urging Louis’ lips to open, licking into his mouth. Harry moaned, long and loud, into Louis’ mouth, willing Louis through sheer mind-power to want him back. Louis placed a hand on Harry’s cheek, like he could tell Harry needed some comfort, or something, and Harry broke away, annoyed with himself. He shouldn’t be so clingy; he’d only end up scaring Louis away.

“Thanks,” he said, when Louis just stared up at him, eyes a little wide and breathless. “I, uhm. I like kissing.”

Louis licked his lips, eyes still wide, and nodded. “Any time,” he said.

Harry turned and grabbed the second _Thor_ movie and popped it in the DVD player, and grabbed the remote before he and Louis sat down on his couch. Harry grabbed a blanket, in case one or both of them got cold, and Louis curled his feet up underneath him and leaned slightly towards Harry.

Harry wiggled a little in his seat, trying to casually end up close to Louis, but Louis looked over at him a few times, biting his lip, before he scooted bodily closer.

“Is this okay?” He asked when he leaned against Harry fully, his head resting on Harry’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Harry answered, heart beating a little fast. “Uhm, it’s great.” Louis squirmed after the words, and when Harry lifted his arm to point the remote and press play, he just wound his arm around Louis, resting over his shoulder.

Louis grabbed the blanket from next to Harry and spread it over himself, one arm resting on Harry’s thigh and the other bundled up under the blanket. By the time Jane was at the old warehouse, Louis’ pinky was tracing circles near Harry’s knee, though he was completely absorbed in the movie every time Harry looked over.

Louis was warm and light, so Harry didn’t mind him leaning in the least for the entirety of the movie. Towards the end, Louis’ free arm emerged from the blanket and bent at an awkward angle so that the tips of his fingers tangled with the tips of Harry’s fingers. After a few times, Harry got the hint, and shifted just enough so that he could grab Louis’ hand, wondering if it was true – that the “friends with benefits” thing really would work out in his favor, if Louis _was_ starting to have feelings connecting to Harry because of their sex.

When Harry felt palm against palm, he sighed quietly, and Louis seemed to sink back against him even more. The movie ended eventually, but neither of them felt like getting up to put a new one in, so Harry just turned the TV off and shifted so he was laying down on the couch, and Louis stayed still throughout it all, so he ended up sprawled across Harry’s side and stomach. They lay in silence in the dark for a few minutes until Louis started drawing circles on Harry’s chest with his pink, rather than on his thigh.

“What’s your family like?” Louis asked, out of nowhere.

Harry thought for a minute, humming a little as he decided what to say.

“They’re good people,” he said slowly. “I’m not ridiculously close with my parents, but I _do_ love them. We kind of…my parents split up when I was a kid, so for a long time, my mom was just working, all the time, trying to take care of us…it was really hard on her. But she’s a great person; I appreciate her a lot, now. And my step-dad, Robin, too. He’s great.”

“I couldn’t imagine,” Louis said, shaking his head against Harry. “My mom started dating my dad when I was really young, but I couldn’t imagine being a single parent. Like, especially not for my mom – I’m the oldest of seven kids. I think she would’ve gone insane if she’d’ve had to do it all on her own.”

“ _Damn_ ,” Harry said, laughing lightly at the thought. _Seven kids_. “It’s just me and my older sister. Mom remarried, obviously, so I have a step-brother who’s a few years older than her, but he was already out of the house by the time our parents got together. He’s nice, though. I looked up to him when I was younger.”

“Are you close to them?” Louis asked, shifting around to get more comfortable. Louis kept holding his hand, though, and Harry let him, because it felt nice. “Your family, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah, sort of,” Harry said after a moment. “My sister and I are freakishly close, like. She moved to Jersey for work, but we have really similar minds, senses of humor, stuff like that. My mom and I get along well, now – we didn’t, for a while, when I started all of this,” Harry gestured to his piercings and clothes, grimacing. “She didn’t really understand. Gemma, my sister, got it, of course, and our step-dad just sort of rolled with it. It had started just before Mom started seeing him, so I think he was mainly just relieved it wasn’t me acting out because my mom started dating again after my parents divorced. He never really disciplined us, even though he loves us both – like, that’s never been a doubt. He loves us like his own, and as long as I wasn’t on drugs or getting anyone pregnant or breaking laws, he felt like I was doing alright.” Harry laughed ruefully as he remembered all the tense conversations his mom and Robin had had after dinner, or after Harry announced he’d be going out. “I love my family, yeah, but I don’t really go see them very often. It’s sort of…I don’t know, I feel like I’m not really able to be myself around them without making someone uncomfortable.”

“I wish I could sympathize,” Louis said. His voice was starting to get drowsy, and Harry rubbed his back. “My real dad and my mom broke up before I was even born, and he ended up doing something stupid – drugs, I think, maybe selling; I never really asked a lot – and managed to land himself in prison. I never really cared, all that much, because until my mom started dating Mark – who, as far as I’m concerned, is my dad – I didn’t even really think about the fact that all my friends had dads, too, because it was always the moms who picked my friends up from school or took us places and stuff. But Mark’s always been really good to me – only, unlike yours, he definitely had no issues keeping me in line.” Louis laughed, shaking his head. “He busted my butt the first time I brought a C home on a report card. To be fair, my mom probably would have done it if he hadn’t been around, and I was disappointed in myself enough as it was. And, like, when I came out to my parents, he was a little pissy at first, but only because a lot of kids had started coming out, for some reason. It was almost like a fad, or something, and he thought I was doing it to fit in, and he got really pissy because he thought it was disrespectful to come out and not even mean it. He pretty much gave me the Spanish Inquisition," Louis chuckled. Harry smiled with him, trying to imagine what would happen when he came out.

“How was work?” Harry asked eventually, when he couldn't think of anything else to say about their families.

“Not bad,” Louis answered, sounding sleepy already. “Managed to hire on a few people and set up a good amount of interviews for a really big corporation, which is nice, because I sort of – basically, we get cuts about once a month for every job we successfully hire for, and I actually managed to set up all three candidates for the CEO of the corp, so I got pretty lucky with that.”

“So, what, is that, like – commission, kind of?” Harry asked, wracking his brain to figure Louis’ system out.

“Kind of,” Louis nodded. “Like we get a base pay, one I’d get even if I didn’t hire anyone or set up any interviews – actually, I’d probably just get fired, but, you know. But then we get a certain amount of money if we get a company a CEO or a chairperson or a supervisor, that sort of thing. It’s bigger the bigger the company is, and bigger the more important the employee needed is. So, like, basically, I just got Christmas taken care of for my family.”

Harry snorted. “Louis, it’s April,” he said. Louis just thumped him on the temple, though.

“Whatever,” he said, and Harry laughed at his dismissive tone. “I _do_ like my job, though,” he continued, a little softer. “Like, it’s not just about the money. The money’s great, like, I can live very comfortably and not have to worry about much…but it’s challenging, and I don’t really have any bosses, so, like – basically, I get to choose whether I want to do something for a company. I can turn down an offer to work for anyone. I don’t, often, otherwise I’d be bored and just shoot spitballs at Liam all day,” he laughed when Harry chuckled. “But, like – it’s kind of…nice. I used to, when I was a teen, I worked at a Toys R Us, and it was _awful_ , like. My boss was a terrible person, and when I got fired, I basically asked her why she was such an awful wench, and she was like, ‘You’d understand if you were the boss.’ And basically, I decided that if I ever _were_ anyone’s boss, I’d never treat them like that. And now, I’ve got the sweetest assistant, she’s so fierce and kind, and I love telling her to go home, or telling her to pick something out for herself when she runs an errand for me. Even if it’s little things, like, ‘get yourself a coffee when you get mine; use my card’. It’s nice to be able to do that.”

Harry smiled while Louis explained, stupidly pleased for him to have gotten such a great job that made him happy. He half-expected Louis to keep going on about his job, but Louis pressed a quick, barely-there kiss to his chest, over his shirt, and asked, “What about your job? Tattooing, that must be cool.”

Harry trailed his fingers up and down Louis’ spine over his shirt, thinking through his words before he said them. “I like to tattoo,” he allowed. “I’m okay at it, like. I don’t do any shading, or anything; I can do color tattoos, of course, but I don’t do portraits or shading. I can do really good stencil-work, and I’ve got really steady fingers, so I can do any font, really. It’s not – I mean…I think to anyone else, it’d be an amazing job, you know? You get to make art and give it to someone forever, you get to hear all their stories, you get to see their faces when it’s done, you get to learn little things about people while they’re in there. To anyone else, it’d be the coolest job on the planet.”

Harry paused there, and Louis opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again to say quietly, “But not you?”

Harry hummed. He didn’t really know how to tell Louis that other people didn’t affect him, that he only felt minor twinges of sympathy for other people and their stories. How could he tell someone that after spending his teenage years learning to not care about other people, he was good at it? Harry wanted to share that part of himself, sort of, for some reason, but he didn’t want Louis to walk away thinking that _he_ was included. For some reason, Louis was an exception, was already included in Harry’s little group consisting of Gemma, Zayn, Niall, and, to some extent, Harry’s mom and step-dad, but it wasn’t as if Harry could explain that well enough to make him understand the significance of it all.

Just when he was starting to wonder, with the tiniest bit of anxiety, how to answer Louis’ question truthfully without ruining everything, Louis yawned. It was big and loud, lifting Louis’ head off Harry’s chest and filling his lungs with so much air that he elevated off Harry’s torso from his filled-up tummy pushing against it. Harry chuckled. “I think it’s time for bed,” he said, rubbing Louis’ back with his palm, rather than fingertips. “Want to stay here tonight?” He asked.

Louis sighed and relaxed against Harry again, but he nodded, so Harry got a good grip around his waist, hands sliding to the backs of his thighs, just before they met his butt, and sat up. Louis squeaked a little when he realized what Harry was about to do, but he simply shifted around until he was more secure and wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders, his head then relaxed against Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned and stood, wobbling a little bit from his legs being numb, but Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s hips and hummed, so Harry sucked it up and carried him through the hall and into his room.

Harry deposited Louis gently onto the bed and stood up, pulling off his shoes and the rest of his clothes, until he was down to his briefs. Louis struggled just a little more in his own jeans, being so lazy that he wouldn’t shift enough, until Harry took pity. He took Louis’ jeans by the ankles and pulled swiftly, and the jeans came almost all the way off, making Louis huff petulantly. Harry crawled into the bed while Louis took his shirt off, and by the time Louis was mostly naked and underneath the blanket, Harry was settled on his back. Louis lay down on his side, facing Harry but not touching him.

“Night, Harry,” he whispered, and Harry smiled.

He stretched his hand out and seductively caressed the sheets until he found Louis’ hand, and tugged on it once their fingers twisted together. “Come here,” he said, and Louis scooted closer, wedging one shin between Harry’s legs and wrapped an arm around Harry’s torso.

Louis slowly rested his head on Harry’s chest, over one of the swallows tattooed there, and once he was comfortable, Harry wrapped his other arm around Louis. “Night, Lou.”

\---

Harry was getting used to talking to Louis almost every day. So when, on Friday, Harry hadn’t heard from Louis by the time he was supposed to go in to bartend before his gig, he was starting to doubt if Louis would even be there for the gig.

Harry was just about to go to the bathroom and send Louis a text when he turned around, readying a forced smile to the new patron.

“Lou,” he said, a little surprised and mostly delighted, to his own embarrassment. “Hey, how are you?”

Louis grinned, though he stuck his tongue out and widened his eyes out to make himself look exhausted simultaneously. “Long day,” he said, “but a productive one. Been feeling a little queasy all day, actually. Sorry, I haven’t been ignoring you; I swear.”

Harry laughed, a little bit of relief allowing him to relax a bit more. “What can I get you?” He asked.

Louis sighed. “Just a beer, I think,” he said. “Heineken,” he added when Harry started digging in the cooler. Harry grabbed the coldest one, and Louis handed over a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change; I don’t like coins,” he said, and Harry raised his eyebrows at the nearly seven dollar tip for grabbing him a cold beer.

“Thanks,” he said. “You sure you’re not a sugar daddy?” He added, grinning when Louis choked lightly and coughed a few times.

“Trust me, Harry,” he laughed, “If I were a sugar daddy, you’d already be a millionaire.”

“Is that so?” Harry asked, and Louis waited until Harry greeted a girl who came up to the bar, showed her card, and ordered until he explained.

“Oh, sure,” he said, watching Harry mix the pina colada. “I’d have bought a significant enough amount of the music industry to get The Masochists a deal already.”

“I think we could do it without your sugar daddy methods,” Harry said, and Louis waved a hand impatiently.

“Of course you could,” he said, “but getting it the honest way takes too long. I’d have connections, get you the advanced version. Obviously.”

Harry grinned and rolled his eyes, telling the woman to have a good night. It was another hour before Harry could clock out, and he saw Niall and Josh poking their heads through the back door of the bar, looking around for him.

Harry clocked out, rolled his eyes and gave Louis the high five he held his hand up for, and hustled to help them set up on the stage.

“That Louis seems like a good friend of yours, now,” Niall said when Harry greeted the boys.

Harry shrugged and ducked his head, focusing on tuning his guitar. “Uh, yeah, he’s alright,” he said non-committal and attempted-casual.

Niall only nodded, though, not one to be nosy, like Zayn, and Josh…well, Josh knew his place, basically.

“Headed home to Barb after the show?” Josh asked Niall when it got quiet, but Niall shook his head.

“Nah, she’s got some conference in San Antonio, so I figured I’d stay out. What about you?”

“I’m headed home; I’m going to my parents’ this weekend,” Josh answered. “It’s their anniversary, so they want all of us to come home for their present.” He rolled his lined eyes, but smiled, and they continued to work.

When they were all set up, Harry tapped the mic and smiled when a few people cheered. “Hi, everyone,” he greeted, already feeling his day-to-day tension roll off his shoulders. “I’m Harry, that’s Niall, and Josh, on the drums. We’re The Masochists, and we’re gonna play a few songs for you, if that’s okay.” More cheers erupted, mixed in with polite claps for the non-enthusiasts or newbies, and Harry cleared his throat.

They started off with _Photograph_ , by Def Leppard, and when Harry sang, “ _You’re the only one I wanna touch_ ,” he winked at Louis, who bit his lip on a grin, and then took a giant swig of his beer. He didn’t look back up at Harry again until Harry and Niall were singing the chorus in their falsettos.

They played _Cum On, Feel the Noize_ by Quiet Riot next, and Harry smiled through the chorus of _Bang Bang_ , by Danger Danger, followed by some Skid Row, _Slave To The Grind_.They did the unexpected, next, and sang _Love Bites_ , by Def Leppard, for all the hurt drunks in the corners of the bar, and played _You Give Love a Bad Name_ , by Bon Jovi, to ease everyone out of the mini-funk they’d gotten into.

“Now, here are some of our favorites,” Harry said into the mic while Niall retuned his own guitar. “They’re all pretty dirty, which...truth be told, probably is why they’re some of our favorites.” He gave an impish smile while people laughed, and took a drink from his water bottle. “Hope you like them as much as I do. Here’s _Rock You Like A Hurricane_ , by the Scorpions.”

Next, Harry played _You Shook Me All Night Long_ , by AC/DC, _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ , by Def Leppard, _Walk This Way_ , by Aerosmith, and ended with Warrant, _Cherry Pie_.

“Thank you!” Niall called, while Harry doused himself in water. “Thanks, we’re here every Friday night, so make sure you come back and see us! Again, I’m Niall, and we’re The Masochists; thank you for listening!”

Harry half-waved, half-saluted to everyone in the crowd, and unplugged his guitar. He put her in her case and snapped it shut, locking the lock on the handle, and took it out to the van, where he pushed her way back. When he came back, Niall and Josh were working on the drums, so Harry rolled up all the chords and stacked them on top of one of their amps, and he and Niall took the amps out to the van together, since they were so heavy.

“Uh, have fun at your parents’ this weekend,” Harry said to Josh in lieu of a goodbye, and he smiled and nodded.

“Thanks, have a good one, guys.”

Louis was still sitting by the bar when Harry came back, and he ignored the fact that Harry was wet and sweaty in favor of hugging him tight. “You were insane, Harry,” he said with a smile, and Harry grinned, adrenaline slowly ebbing, with all the loading they’d done with packing everything up.

“Hey, Louis! Niall,” Niall said, coming up behind Harry and clapping him on the back before he held his hand out to shake Louis’. “Heard a lot about you,” he lied. “Glad you could come out!”

“Of course,” Louis said, clasping Niall’s hand, and then pressed his lips to a hard line.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, stepping closer and forgetting, in the moment, that Niall didn’t know he was gay, or interested in Louis. He cupped Louis’ cheek and frowned. “You’re kind of hot; are you feeling bad?”

“Just a little off; I’m fine,” Louis answered, pushing Harry’s hand off his face. “I, uh. I think I’m gonna head on home, though…”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Harry asked, glancing at Niall, who also looked a little concerned.

Louis hesitated, and Harry wanted to add that they didn’t have to do anything, but it’d bring up questions from Niall. Instead, Harry said, “At least let me take you home. You shouldn’t drive if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, I took a cab here,” Louis said. “I’ll be _fine_ , Harry, really. I’m just glad I got to see the show.”

Harry chewed his lip for a minute, but he could feel Niall looking at him, so he nodded. “Okay,” he relented. “Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Sure thing,” Louis said, rolling his eyes for Niall’s benefit. Niall snorted, but Louis smiled at Harry to let him know he was teasing. “Uhm, you guys did really well tonight. Seriously. Might have been your best show yet.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, a little awkwardly soft, and Louis hugged him before he threw some cash towards Tom and left.

“Let’s get drunk, Harry,” Niall suggested, but Harry shrugged.

“I’d love to, man, but we both drove tonight.”

Niall deflated a little, but he ordered each of them a beer and a basket of fries. “Well, we’ll at least have a little something, then. Sober up before we go.” Harry nodded in compliance, not really minding, and Niall must have seen something on his face, because he hit Harry’s arm with the back of his hand. “Hey. Harry. He’ll be fine. Where’s he live, fuckin’ Africa? He’ll be home in no time, and he’ll sleep it off.”

Harry scowled, but nodded. “You’re right,” he said, sighing. “Sorry, bro.”

Niall only shrugged, though, and lifted the basket up in thanks when one of the waitresses, Harry thought her name was Jesy, set it down in front of them. “No worries,” he said, staring at the waitresss ass as she walked away. “Just sit here and chill, take some girl home, and stop thinking about your friend, yeah?”

Harry snorted; Niall lived a very simple life. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and tipped his beer against Niall’s.

He didn’t take anyone home, of course, and didn’t leave until Niall clapped him on the shoulder, a text from Barbara coming in saying she’d be at her hotel soon (which, apparently, was a huge hint that Niall should get somewhere private, if the way he scurried out the door said anything), leaving Harry alone.

 _Bout to leave Otto’s, you sure you don’t want me to come over?_ Harry sent Louis, finishing off his fries.

The reply came quickly, and Harry sighed. _Yeah I’m fine, thank you though!! Gonna call for an appt first thing tomorrow, see if one of those clinics can squeeze me in on a Sat. appt or something._

Harry paid for his beer and waved goodbye to Ed, and headed to his car. _If you say so. If you die, don’t come haunt me, cause I offered!!_ , he replied, grimacing to himself as he closed his door and started the car.

His phone buzzed, but he waited until he got home – it wasn’t as if it was far – to check it. _Haha, I’ll let you know what’s up when I figure it out, ok? For now, I’m gonna pass out. Night, Harold_.

Harry blew out a sigh when he walked into his empty apartment, hoping Louis would have some sense to take a hot bath to break his fever. He was trying to sleep, though, so Harry didn’t text him, and he went to sleep relatively early, considering he didn’t even have to be at work until ten a.m.

\---

The next morning, Harry texted Louis while he was on his way into the shop. _Morning, feeling any better?_

He didn’t get a reply back for _hours_ , so once he got home, he grabbed Christine and started working on a new original song for The Masochists to play. Harry loved writing songs, but he didn’t like to play them often, not to an audience of drunks and misers. Niall had insisted they needed something new to at least practice with, though, so Harry had been working on a song for weeks, on and off.

His phone went off just as he was starting to get a little frustrated, and Louis’ smart-assed reply made him smile.

_I’m pregnant. It’s yours._

Harry snickered at when he read the text from Louis, rolling his eyes. Definitely feeling better, then. _Sure thing, I’m a stud!_ he texted back, and picked his guitar back up, plucking at chords, and his mind was soon enveloped in the composition of song. It wasn’t until Harry got hungry, and opened his phone to text Louis to suggest trying that weird Chinese place out for dinner that he realized Louis had never texted back.

On the way to his room to get dressed to go to dinner, Harry dropped the phone. Once he picked it up, he immediately called Louis, but the phone went straight to voicemail. “ _Hey, it’s Louis Tomlinson! If you’re hearing this, I’ve probably lost my phone. Other possibilities include me ignoring you or being dead. Leave your name and number, and whatever you need, and I’ll get back to you if, indeed, I’m not ignoring you. Or dead. Thanks!_ ”

Feeling a little light-headed, Harry hung up and called again, panicking as it went to voicemail even after the sixth call, and he realized he had no other hope but to _find_ Louis.

Harry grabbed his keys and wallet and ran out of his apartment. He got in his car and drove straight to the bar, hoping like hell Louis would be there. It wasn’t as if he knew where Louis lived, and certainly not where he worked. The entire drive, all he could think was _pregnant, baby, Louis, baby, father, pregnant, yours_ , and he nearly wrecked twice on the short drive to the Otto Bar.

“Harry?”

Harry turned around immediately to the sound of his name when he entered the bar, but it was only Nick.

“Nick, has Louis been in today?” Harry asked, rushing over to him and grabbing his shirt, pleading for an answer.

Nick shook his head, though, confused, and said, “No, he’s never in before you, anymore. Comes from work, I know that, but –”

“Do you know where he works?” Harry interrupted, but again, Nick shook his head, and Harry wanted to punch something.

He took another careful look around the bar, but found nothing, and called Louis again.

“ _Hey, it’s Louis Tomlins_ –”

Harry swore and headed back to his car, thinking heavily. He’d only been to Louis’ apartment once, the very first time they had sex, and Harry hadn’t been paying any attention at _all_. Apart from what Louis _did_ , he never told Harry _where_ he worked, so he couldn’t even be creepy and track him down at work, either. Harry nearly succumbed to panicked tears before he realized there was only one other possibility, and then, he was dialing Zayn.

“ _Hey, Hazza,_ ” Zayn said easily when he picked up, and Harry crouched in his car, resting his head against his steering wheel.

“Zayn,” Harry said plaintively. “Zayn, do you have Liam’s number?”

“ _I – uhm, yeah, I have it_ …” Zayn trailed off, confused, but Harry didn’t have time for that.

“Can you send it to me? Immediately?” He asked, and Zayn started to respond, sounding worried, but Harry cut him off again. “I’ll explain everything later, I swear, Zayn, but I _need_ Liam’s number, like, now. Please, can you send it to me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Zayn answered, his voice soft. “ _Call me when you’re okay, yeah_?”

“Swear,” Harry promised, and Zayn cut the line. Harry felt panic lodging itself in his throat. Not half a minute later, Harry’s phone vibrated, and Harry jumped to answer it, thinking it was Louis, but it was Zayn’s text with Liam’s number, no questions asked.

Harry tapped the number and put the phone to his ear when it started dialing, breathing shakily when he heard Liam answer, curious but friendly. “ _Hello_?”

“Liam,” Harry said quickly, “I think – I’m not, uhm, trying to panic you, but I think Louis’ in trouble, and I don’t know how to find him. Please, do you – do you know where he is?”

Liam paused, breathing over the phone for a while, and then started speaking a little regretfully. “ _Oh, Harry…I can’t – I’m sorry, man. I can’t help you, though._ ”

Harry’s stomach dropped. “I - _what_?” He asked, scrambling to find something Liam could possibly want in exchange. “No, Liam, please, I _need_ to talk to him, I’m fucking – I’m freaking out, _please_ help me reach him, he’s – I don’t, uhm. He’s…I think he’s carrying my _baby_ , he said, Liam; I can’t… _please_.” Harry whispered the last word, his heart breaking as he thought of Louis, who must be alone, hiding, and feeling so many things, but even more, Harry’s heart broke because he didn’t know what would happen to a baby he’d only known existed for half an hour.

Liam cleared his throat, and sighed. “ _Harry, I would help you if I could, but. Louis didn’t tell me where he was going; I’m so sorry_.” He genuinely sounded regretful, and a little worried, and Harry felt himself going numb.

“Oh. …No, it’s okay,” he said, dazed. “I – uhm, that’s alright. I’ll…just. If you talk to him, could you…”

“ _I’ll tell him immediately you’ve called, okay?_ ” Liam rushed to assure him, and Harry nodded, though he knew Liam couldn’t see him. " _Harry? I’ll tell him you’re looking for him._ ”

“Right. Thanks, Liam,” Harry said, and hung up before Liam could respond. He dropped the phone to the passenger seat and stared out his windshield for a moment, thinking everything through.

Louis was pregnant. It was Harry’s baby. Harry was a father-to-be. Louis had disappeared. Louis had the _money_ to disappear, to do anything. Harry could possibly never see Louis or their baby. There was a distinct possibility that Harry would live the rest of his life with a child of his walking around him and never know.

Harry took a deep breath and bangs his fists against the wheel repeatedly, screaming. “Damn it, damn it, _fuck_! Fuck, shit, _damn it_!” Harry screamed and punched his steering wheel until his throat hurt and he felt like crying, and then he rested his head against the wheel until he swallowed the feeling away.

Harry went home and stayed there. He called out of work at the tattoo shop for the next four days and texted Nick. He said he was sick, and Nick asked if it had anything to do with Louis not showing up. Harry didn’t answer. Zayn didn’t stop texting him, and Niall called several times, only getting actually worried once Harry didn’t answer his _ready to fuckin kill tonite, bro!_ text on Friday afternoon. They probably cancelled the show; Harry had no idea. Even Gemma had started getting concerned, once Harry skipped their weekly call-me-every-Thursday-you-shithead date and never even texted an excuse.

For his part, Harry didn’t stop trying get ahold of Louis. He called several times a day, texted more than several, and tried his best to recreate the memory of where Louis lived. He failed miserably, though, and nearly ran out of gas, lost and not caring, because he had no idea what would happen to his baby or his kind-of not-boyfriend.

Quite a few times, he had the wild thought that Louis had said he was on the pill. He also Google searched everything he could about male pregnancy, reading symptoms and how their pregnancy tests worked, and how Mother Nature decided which males could get pregnant and which ones couldn’t. (Apparently, it was almost opposite of women; while most women could get pregnant and only a small percentage couldn’t, most men couldn’t and a small number could. Those men had some different chromosomal variation…Harry wasn’t very good at biology, in school.)

On the fifth day, a Saturday, Harry returned to both jobs, but answered no questions. He also called Louis every moment he wasn’t tattooing or actively cleaning tables or waiting – Nick had taken one look at Harry’s demeanor and refused to put him behind the bar – but he hadn’t gotten a response.

After a week, there was a knock on his door. Harry ignored it, knowing it would be one of his friends, and he really wasn’t ready to face them. Zayn or Niall knocked again, more urgently, and Harry heard a sigh.

“Harry, it’s me,” Louis said on the other side of the door.

Harry upended his bowl of popcorn, where he was watching shit TV in an attempt to pout like a true American, rushing to the door. Louis was standing there, rain-soaked and looking vulnerable as hell, but unharmed. Harry hugged him tight and kissed him, feeling shuddery breaths of relief escape him as he pulled Louis into the apartment. Louis hugged him tight, even kissed him back, but as soon as he pulled away, Harry realized he was seething mad.

“Where the _hell_ have you been,” he demanded, and Louis bit his lip and took a step back, looking wounded. “Do you know how _terrified_ I’ve been, Louis?” He asked, voice rising. “I’ve been worried _sick_ , Louis, what kind of fucking _game_ is this to you!?”

Harry backed up and started pacing lines on his living room/kitchen, knowing if he didn’t move, he’d probably hit Louis, and despite _really_ wanting to hit Louis, he really _didn’t_ want to hit him, either. Louis inhaled sharply, and his bottom lip wobbled just a little.

“I’m _sorry_ , Harry, I just –”

“Don’t – don’t – you don’t get to _cry_ ,” Harry interrupted, even angrier and aware, but not caring, that he was shouting. “You don’t get to just _disappear_ like that, after a fucking _text_ , telling me I’m the father of a _child_ , and not answer me for a _fucking week_. You don’t get to do that, and then come back here and _cry_ , Louis. I have genuinely never been this angry with another human being, and if you were anybody else in the world, I probably would have hit you in the goddamn face. What the _fuck – why are you crying_?!” He roared, seeing Louis hiccupping into his tiny little hands, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Louis didn’t answer, just shook his head and kept crying, and it only made Harry angrier, though it was more borne of fear than anything else. “What is it?” He asked loudly. “Is this some fake emotional stuff? Is it pregnancy hormones? Are you crying because you know you were wrong? Why are you crying, Louis?”

“I’m crying because you’re a fucking _dick_ ,” Louis shouted, finally, lifting his tear-soaked face from his hands just long enough to get the words out.

“ _I’m_ a dick?” Harry asked, laughing humorlessly, shocked enough to quiet down. “You text me that I got you pregnant, and then you disappear, don’t tell your friends where you’re going, don’t think to mention to the _father of your child_ where you’re going, what you’re doing, or –”

The sickest thought entered Harry’s mind for the first time as he took in Louis’ tiny, vulnerable, emotional form, and Harry choked for a second. “…Oh, Louis, fuck. You didn’t – you didn’t have a…” Harry swallowed tightly, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t even say it. “Louis,” he tried again, but Louis interrupted, face flushed and pinched.

“I needed to see my fucking _family_ , Harry; is that so wrong? I got knocked up and I just needed to see my mom. I apologize for committing the worst fucking sin to ever have happened on the face of this planet.”

Harry shook his head angrily, pointing his finger at Louis. “You could have just _told_ me,” he said. “I was worried _sick_ , you have to let me _know_ these things, now, Louis!”

Louis look like he’d been hit across the back of the head. “Oh, since when do I have to answer to _you_?” He shouted. “Why would I need to tell you? Why would you suddenly freak the fuck out if we don’t see each other for a few days? When did you get so clingy?”

“ _When you told me you’re pregnant with my baby_ ,” Harry bellowed at Louis, whose nostrils flared even as he took a step back. “Louis, how the hell was I supposed to know you’d gone to see your mother? I don’t know how to get to your house. I don’t know where you work. You didn’t even tell _Liam_. I’ve been walking around like a fucking zombie, imagining all these horrors that could have happened to you or the baby –”

“You’re being ridiculous!” Louis interrupted, his energy flagging, and he was tearing up again, but Harry talked over him, his voice louder.

“Louis, you have _money!_ You could disappear and never see me again, and it wouldn’t be an issue for you!” He said. “How was I to know you hadn’t just up and left? How was I to know you weren’t sending that _fucking_ text while driving, and ended up in a ditch? How was I to know _anything_ , Louis? You could leave me behind in a second. You could have the baby aborted, for all I –”

Harry was silenced by a round, hard slap to the face. When he turned his head back around, stumbling back from the force, Louis looked simultaneously terrified and enraged. When Harry stood still, Louis’ face turned to defiance. “I would _never_ kill my baby,” he hissed, looking disgusted, and even though Harry was furious, he sagged in relief, breath coming unevenly like he was about to cry.

“Louis,” he said much quieter, though he knew Louis would still hear the anger in his voice, “you don’t get it. How would I _know_ that? We never sat around and talked about abortion, what we’d do if you got pregnant, _how to get ahold of you_.” Harry paused for a moment to let the both of them take that in, and only when they were both a little calmer, he continued. “Why the _hell_ couldn’t you have just said, like, ‘ _hey, headed to see my family and clear my head a little bit, text you when I get there_ ’? Would that have been so hard? I nearly got fired from _both_ jobs this week because I was _terrified_ to leave my phone or my front door. And every second it wasn’t you, ringing or knocking, I got closer and closer to calling the police and posting a Missing Persons. Don’t…” Louis’ fight seemed to have given out, and he walked towards Harry, eyes still teary, and hugged Harry tentatively, resting his head against Harry’s chest and folding his hands behind Harry’s spine.

Harry hugged Louis back intensely, pressing his face hard against Louis’ hair, breathing in his smell raggedly. His exhale was shuddery, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Please,” he pleaded quietly. “Please, Louis. Please, don’t ever do that again.”

Louis sobbed against Harry’s chest, just once, and nodded with a tiny little whine. Harry let himself sob once, too, and without letting go, he led the way towards his bedroom, where he laid Louis down on the bed and lay next to him, every inch of their body possible touching. He ran his fingers through Louis’ messy hair, kissed the backs and palms of Louis’ hands, and snuggled back when Louis scooted closer as he drifted to sleep.

Only when Harry was _positive_ Louis was out like a lamp, he let himself cry, covering his face and trying to relax his body so his sobs didn’t shake the mattress and wake Louis up.

\---

The next morning, Harry woke up because he felt Louis suddenly tense up. “What’s wrong?” Harry asked immediately, blinking to awareness.

He looked down and found Louis staring up at him, eyes wide. “What is it?” Harry asked again, moving his hand to Louis’ chest and feeling his heart beating wildly. “Is everything okay?”

Louis clutched at the wrist Harry had pressed against his chest and licked his lips. “You’re not mad anymore?” He asked, voice small, and Harry frowned.

“I don’t stay mad for long,” Harry explained slowly. “I was – more than anything, I was scared, and hurt that you didn’t think enough of me to…include me.” Louis opened his mouth to say something but Harry quickly continued, wanting to make sure he was heard loud and clear. “I wouldn’t have had a problem with you going, Louis; I’m the baby’s father, not your parole officer, or whatever. I don’t want to control you; I just want to keep you and the baby safe as much as _you_ seem to want to. I wouldn’t have even asked to go with you,” he added, finally slowing his monologue. “I just don’t like worrying. I’m sorry I yelled so much; I certainly never wanted to make you cry.”

Louis didn’t answer for a moment, instead choosing to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder again and trace his fingers over Harry’s tattoos, and Harry trailed his finger up and down Louis’ spine until the man shivered in his arms.

“Harry,” he said eventually, not moving his face to look up. Harry stopped moving his hand, but Louis wriggled, obviously wanting him to continue, so he did while Louis talked. “Harry, it wasn’t – it wasn’t that I didn’t think enough of you. Really. I…I think the world of you; I – if I hadn’t gotten pregnant…I was hoping to be your boyfriend, eventually. I get it if it’s too much at once,” Louis added in a hurry, because Harry’s hand had stopped moving. He wondered if Louis could hear his heart’s rapid pace. “I’m not – I’m not expecting you to, like, ask me to move in or marry me or anything like that, shit; we can – we can, uhm, be friends, who just – have a baby. If that’s…what you want?”

This time, he _did_ look up at Harry, who tried hard to school his expression. It probably didn’t work – he felt like he looked like a maniac, he was so hopeful – but he swallowed and made eye contact with Louis. “I’d – uhm, we could…we could try? If you want…I really like you, too. I was actually, uh – the only reason I never asked you out was because you said it was more of an experiment-type thing, so –”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Louis interrupted, propping himself up and looking confused. “When did I _ever_ say anything about you being an experiment?” He demanded, and Harry looked at him, a little uncertain. Was he really going to act like he didn’t say it?

“The day after the first time we slept together, Lou,” he said, brows furrowed. “You said you’d never slept with someone you weren’t dating –”

“And you said sex was just sex,” Louis filled in for him, still apparently not comprehending.

“And then _you said_ you’d never slept with someone like me, but you might want to,” Harry finished, and Louis’ looked incredulous. “And I get it,” Harry added, a little rushed. “Like, I’m obviously not someone you’d normally go for; look at me. Makes sense I’d be different in bed, maybe.”

“Harry, when I said ‘someone like you’, I meant someone who has _casual sex between friends_ ,” he said, his voice higher pitched and full of disbelief. “You thought I was sleeping with you because you wear _makeup_? All this time, seriously?”

Harry’s mouth had dropped at Louis’ revelation, but at his question, Harry pouted. “And piercings and tattoos,” he insisted, and Louis just snorted. Harry felt lighter than he had in _weeks_. “All this time, you wanted to date me?” He asked.

“Not _all_ this time,” Louis said, shaking his head. “I mean, after, like, the first week, and we’d spent all that time together, yeah, but you never asked me out or even hinted at wanting a relationship, so I dropped it.”

Harry shook his head, happy, though he still couldn’t believe they’d miscommunicated for a few weeks, despite how honest they were with each other about everything else. Biting his lip, Harry hesitated before asking, “So, now…with the, uhm, baby on the way…are you – what do you want to do?”

Louis shrugged, stretching momentarily so his toes brushed against Harry’s under the cover, and then relaxed. “I mean, I still want to date you,” he said honestly, though he blushed. “It might be all the hormones and stuff, I don’t know, but having your baby inside me certainly doesn’t make me want to date you _less_.”

 _Having your baby inside me_.

Harry suddenly cupped the side of Louis’ face and leaned his head up to kiss him, and Louis made a surprised sound, but kissed him back until they were breathless, legs tangling together.

“Fuck,” Harry said, his hand on the back of Louis’ neck to keep their foreheads pressed together. “Louis, be my boyfriend and have my baby?”

Louis giggled breathlessly, and kissed Harry again. “You’re so eloquent,” he teased, nipping Harry’s bottom lip. “Yes, yeah, I’ll – yeah.”

Elated and feeling like the king of the world, ignoring the terror he could feel making itself at home in the back of his mind, Harry grinned and rolled them over, bracketing his weight on arms and knees over Louis, who laughed and clung to Harry’s frame.

\---

Harry had Sunday off, as usual, and he and Louis spent the entire day together, at Harry’s. They watched movies, Googled information for male pregnancy symptoms, talked, made the first prenatal appointment, Louis irritated Harry while he cooked for them, and, for fun, Harry taught Louis how to do his eye makeup when they got bored.

“Do you ever put eye shadow on?” Louis asked, sitting up on Harry’s bathroom counter.

“Sometimes, if I’m feeling, like, a little self-conscious. Or if I want to look extra bad-ass.” He shrugged, and Louis laughed, not unkindly.

“I bet you use blue, don’t you?” He asked, looking through Harry’s makeup.

Harry nearly gagged. “Are you kidding?” He asked, and Louis raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “No, Lou, you don’t use _blue_ if you’ve got green eyes!”

Louis laughed, putting his arms up in surrender. “Oh, sorry, makeup guru Styles! What colors do you use, then?”

Harry hummed, brushing a light blue on an eye shadow applicator he rarely used. He beckoned Louis closer, and Louis scrunched his nose before acquiescing, closing his eyes and raising his eyebrows to make it easier for Harry. “I usually use purple, like really bright purple. Sometimes green, when I’m with Gemma – she buys all the _really_ , like, bold colors, and pretends it’s for her, even though she only ever wears natural colors.”

“I feel like I’m back at home with my little sisters again,” Louis mumbled, and Harry laughed.

“Gemma used to do mine, too,” he said. “When I was younger. Once I started wearing makeup of my own free will, she stopped enjoying it. It wasn’t fun if it didn’t torture me, I guess.” Louis snorted, and Harry brought out the eyeliner. “Be still,” he warned, and Louis bit his lip, though his eyes stayed closed.

“Well, at least we know, if it’s a girl, she won’t have shitty makeup skills once she gets to be a teenager,” Louis said. He paused, when the side of Harry’s hand brushed his lips as Harry drew a thin, straight line over his lash line. “Well, a boy, too, if he wants to be like you. But still – no makeup until they’re teens; that’s a rule I won’t bend on, okay?”

Harry thickened the line, chuckling to hide his surprise that Louis wouldn’t mind having a son like him, when Louis certainly was worlds different. “No, I totally agree. Gemma started getting attention once she started wearing makeup. We weren’t even especially close when she was like, fourteen, but I hated it. All those boys panting after her just because she could draw artfully on her face. I swore she was gonna end up pregnant by the time she was sixteen, just out of sheer numbers of guys. She didn’t, though. And she punched me in the arm when I said it out loud, thought she would kill me.”

Louis rolled his eyes behind his closed eyelids; Harry felt it. “She was probably on the pill, Harry,” he said, shit-eating grin on his face like he was just trying to drive Harry crazy with the thought of his sister being sexually active as a teen.

Harry didn’t rise to the bait, though. “So were you,” he reminded Louis, and Louis paused.

“Well – yeah, I was,” he hedged. It was the hesitation that made Harry set the pencil down and look at him. Louis’ eyes opened once he felt Harry’s lack of touch, and he chewed on his lip. “I, uh. I’ve obviously been on birth control, like, on and off since I started having sex with my second boyfriend. Like, when I was seventeen, so, about…eight, nine years ago. But, uh. Yeah, so, once I broke up with him, I went off it, because I gained weight on it, and then started a different birth control once I started seeing someone else, and all that. This last pill, though, had really bad reactions – like, I broke out in hives, I basically lost my mind; I nearly lost my job, it was that bad, my mood swings. Uhm, so I had actually switched, like, a week before I met you, and I guess that – gap, or whatever, is what…got me pregnant, I think.”

“Well, that and the condom breaking,” Harry pointed out. “The first time, remember?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, flushing.

Harry cupped Louis’ cheek, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone, and leaned in for a kiss. Louis tilted his head back, still shorter than Harry even up on a counter, and Harry inhaled sharply through his nose when Louis sucked on one of the hoops of Harry’s snakebites.

The kiss wasn’t long, and Harry pressed his lip against Louis’ one more time before he pulled back, grabbing the pencil and continuing with Louis’ makeup. Finally, he asked, “You were seventeen before you had sex?”

Louis pulled back abruptly, a surprised bark of a laugh escaping him. “Uh. Yeah, that was sort of – it was kind of my birthday present, from him,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Why, how old were you?”

Harry bit his lip, hesitating. “I was – younger, is all,” he said, feeling a little ashamed of his own answer. “But you, like. Blowjobs, and handjobs, and stuff, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Louis said, nodding and waving a hand dismissively. “I think I was…what, fifteen when I got my first blowjob? Something like that?”

 _Oh_. Harry’s voice shook a little as he asked, “When did you, like. _Give_ your first blowjob?”

Louis screwed his face up, thinking. “Fifteen. My first boyfriend was on the lacrosse team, and I blew him after a really good game.”

Harry kept his face clear. He didn’t have to feel ashamed; what was done was done.

Louis watched Harry for a moment, probably reading his reluctance to talk about it anymore, and closed his eyes, leaning forward for Harry to finish his makeover in quiet.

After a while of near silence, Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, just holding him there. He didn’t move to kiss Harry, or touch him otherwise, but the contact was nice, and Harry felt like he could breathe again.

Once Harry was finished, he put on mascara, coating Louis’ already-thick eyelashes in the makeup to make them stand out even more. Once it was done, Harry stepped back and wanted to come on his face.

“You look incredible,” he breathed, and cleared his throat.

Louis rolled his eyes and hopped off the counter, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. “Oh,” he said, and stepped back until he was leaning against Harry’s back. They looked at each other through the mirror, and Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ stomach, smiling to himself when Louis’ hands rested on his arms.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry told Louis’ reflection. “All the time,” he added, and Louis nodded.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “Like – I don’t ever really think I’m, you know. _Un_ attractive. But like this, I could be a girl. Like, a really pretty one, too.”

Harry kissed Louis’ cheek, staring at the reflection again, and kissed Louis’ jaw, and down his throat, turning his head and burying his face in the crook of Louis’ neck, mouthing at his skin while Louis craned his head to the side to give Harry more access.

Louis hummed and squirmed back against Harry, laughing with a closed mouth when he felt Harry getting a little hard against his butt.

“You smell good,” Harry defended himself, and licked Louis’ neck before sucking on it. “Taste even better.”

Louis hummed some more, and then gasped when Harry bit down on his skin. “ _Oh_ , Harry,” he said, knees buckling the slightest, and Harry redoubled his efforts, hands drifting down Louis’ tummy towards his cock in his jeans. “We have to tell our friends and family.”

Harry froze.

Boner killer.

 _Fuck_.

\---

_Good luck! @ Liams now, hope I don’t die!!_

Harry stood outside Niall’s apartment, having called a band meeting (and invited Zayn). Nervously, he was pacing, fingers itching for the cigarettes he hadn’t smoked since he choked on one in front of his crush when he was fifteen. He smiled when he read Louis’ text, though, and tapped out a reply. _Pshh. You’ve got ONE person; I have THREE and idek how I got that many people to like me. Pray for me._

With that, Harry turned his phone off and knocked on Niall’s door, hearing Niall cheering, “Hey, it’s Harry!”

The door opened, and Harry, as usual, wasn’t given two seconds before he was pulled into Niall’s apartment and into an enthusiastic hug.

“I was right, it’s Harry!” Niall called triumphantly when he let go, and Harry followed him towards the living room.

“Ni, we’re all here; who else would it have been?” Josh called, rolling his eyes and then yelping when Niall pushed him off the arm of the sofa in retaliation.

Zayn sniggered and Niall nearly doubled over in laughter, while Josh chuckled reluctantly and Harry stood, nervous and uncomfortable. Finally, the guys settled and looked at Harry expectantly, which – right.

“So,” Harry coughed and cleared his throat. “You, uh, may have noticed I’ve been spending a lot of time with Louis,” he began, and Niall nodded, clueless, and Zayn smirked dirtily, and Josh just waited. Harry ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “Uhm, so, I’m gay, and Louis is my – boyfriend.”

Zayn’s eyes widened at the last bit of information, but Josh sat up straight so suddenly, he nearly slipped from the arm of the couch again, and Niall stared at Harry through squinted eyes. “You’re gay?” He asked, and Harry nodded, trying to stand up straight. Confidence was important, he knew.

Zayn looked proudly at Harry for a moment, and then focused on how Niall and Josh reacted, tense like he was ready to strike if they acted badly.

“Uhm, there’s – more, actually,” Harry admitted sheepishly, and Niall blinked. Zayn blinked, confused, and Josh blinked, looking struck. “He’s – well. Louis’ actually, uh, pregnant, and it’s…mine. That’s actually why I called the band meeting, because – well. I mean, nothing’s for certain yet; we’ve only just…just found this much out. I don’t know how it’ll affect…us, really, but obviously a child will affect it somehow, so, like. There’s that. I just – didn’t want you guys to be the last ones to know.”

“Wait,” Niall said after a moment of silence, his gauges swinging as he looked back and forth between Harry, Zayn, and Josh in confusion. “You’ve been _dating_ that Louis guy? The one who comes into the bar all fancy and has a fancy drink with his other fancy friend sometimes during our shows? You’ve been dating him?”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, deciding to skip the long and drawn-out story of his and Louis’ miscommunication. He chewed on his snakebites while Niall digested it.

“And you’ve been – you know, you’ve stuck it up his ass?” Niall asked, and Harry nearly swallowed his tongue.

“I – uh, yeah, Niall, I’ve – stuck it up his ass a few times.”

“Huh,” Niall said, sounding a little impressed, actually, and folded his arms, sitting back against the couch. Nobody said anything for a moment, and then Niall asked, “So, is that not gross? Like, it being his poop-chute, and all?”

“ _Niall_ ,” Zayn cut in, while Harry choked on his own spit and had to be thumped on the back to save himself from suffocating.

While Harry excused himself to get a glass of water, still coughing, he heard Zayn scolding Niall.

“…don’t just _ask_ someone about their boyfriend’s _poop-chute_ , honestly!”

“What?” Niall defended, while Harry drank the entire contents of the glass. “I’ve been talking to Barb about it for _months_ , but I’m not here for a chocolate covered banana!”

Zayn made a disgusted sound while Harry cleared his throat and returned, throat still a little sore. All three boys looked at him when he entered, and Harry didn’t really know what to do.

“Uhm, for the record,” he mumbled awkwardly, “you – you clean yourself, uh, _out_ …before you. Let someone stick their dick in you. It’s sort of, like…etiquette. And hygiene.”

Zayn snorted again, Josh screwed his face up a little, and Niall raised his eyebrows, impressed to learn something, and sat back again.

“How do you know it’s yours?” Josh asked, surprising Harry a little bit.

Harry then surprised _himself_ for being irritated by the perfectly valid question. “We’re exclusive,” he answered, as it was the simplest answer, but Josh apparently wasn’t satisfied.

“I mean, but how do you know?” He asked, and Harry huffed.

“I mean, unless he fucked his dentist a few weeks ago,” he said, annoyed, but Niall jumped in, then, making it not better at all.

“Well, what if his dentist put him under and then had sex with him?” He asked.

“ _What_?” Zayn objected, and Harry watched as they began to squabble amongst themselves.

“Well, I’m sure it’s _happened before_!” Josh said, and Zayn scoffed.

Niall, apparently defending both sides, said, “There was that movie, _She Woke Up Pregnant_ ; maybe that’s what happened!”

“Shut up!” Harry finally raised his voice, shutting the three men up and making them listen. “Louis is pregnant. I’m the only one he’s been sleeping with; I believe that because he told me and I trust him. The baby will get a paternity test, anyway, so if there’s anything wrong, we’ll at least know before we take it home. Until then, I just thought I’d let you guys know. I’m gay, I’m seeing Louis, I’ve gotten him pregnant, and I’d appreciate the support and understanding while I try to figure out how the _hell_ I’m going to raise a child.”

Harry plopped down on the chair behind him, then, and Zayn and Niall were instantly at his side, reassuring him.

“You’re not in it alone,” Zayn soothed, patting Harry’s thigh.

“We’re gonna help you, and, you know, take care of you guys,” Niall said, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulder and leaning their temples together. “This is our baby, now, too, right? We’re all gonna help you and love it, too.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine, man,” Josh offered from the other side of the living room, clearly not comfortable to get in Harry’s space, something for which Harry was grateful. The grateful feeling dissipated almost immediately, though, because Niall climbed up into Harry’s lap and hugged him bodily, and Zayn sat on the chair’s armrest, leaning heavily on Harry. It was a strange sort of dog pile that left Harry feeling way too touched, but he was glad they weren’t freaking out, at least.

Now, he just had to tell his family.

Fuck.

\---

When Harry got home a few hours later, Louis was leaning against the wall near his apartment door, on his phone. He looked up when Harry started walking faster, and Harry was relieved to see he had a smile on his face.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Harry asked, hesitantly leaning in and kissing Louis’ cheek. He was trying to figure out this whole _boyfriend_ thing; he’d never been good at healthy relationships, and he wasn’t sure what he was and wasn’t allowed to do.

Cheek-kisses must have been acceptable, though, because Louis smiled, eyes closed, before he opened them back up and grinned. “Liam nearly had a stroke,” he said, voice delighted. “It was hilarious.”

Harry laughed, a little surprised. “You’re happy your friend nearly had a stroke?” He asked, unlocking the door. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Yes, and no,” Louis answered. “Liam’s too stuck-up; he needs to loosen up a little bit. He’s just too _tense_. He didn’t believe me at first, but when he did, oh, _man_ , I should’ve recorded it, Harry. I think he actually fainted for, like, a few seconds, like. He swayed on his feet and everything, it was awesome.”

“But he’s okay now, right?” Harry checked, heading to the fridge to get himself a beer. He tossed on to Louis, who caught it and stared at Harry like he was a moron. “What? – Oh, sorry, I forgot you can’t drink.” He blushed a little and eased the beer out of Louis’ fingers, and looked into his fridge. “Uhm, apple juice, orange juice, milk, tea, or Mountain Dew?”

“Tea’ll work, thanks,” he said. “Is it sweet?”

“Uh, no, I drink it with Splenda,” Harry said, wrinkling his nose as he stared into the fridge because he knew Louis would be making the same face.

Louis sighed, though, and said, “Alright, tea, then. Where’s your real sugar? You have real sugar, right?”

“Of course,” Harry said, reaching up to the cabinet where he kept spices. He set it down on the counter and brought out the tea pitcher, pouring a glass for Louis. Louis took over, then, adding scoops and scoops of sugar into his glass while Harry watched, horrified. “So, uhm,” he began, trying not to ogle, “so, Liam took it well, then?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, he’s fine,” Louis said, stirring his tea. He smiled up at Harry. “I mean, I kind of had to slap him around a little to make him believe me, but, you know. After that, he was okay. Supportive, and all. Wants to meet you. Again, I suppose.” Louis finished stirring and sucked the spoon into his mouth to lick the sugar off of it before he looked up at Harry. “Wha’ ‘bout oor fwends?” He asked around the spoon, before pulling it from his mouth, still sucking on it.

“Uhm.” Harry coughed. “What? Oh, uh. They were alright. It was a little awkward, ‘cause, like. Uhm, Niall and Josh didn’t even know I’m gay, so –”

“W- _Harry_ , what?!” Louis interrupted, putting the spoon down and stepping in close to Harry, crowding him against the counter. He took Harry’s face in his hands, looking concerned. “Harry, they didn’t know you’re _gay_?”

Harry shook his head, eyes wide and heart racing at Louis’ reaction. “I – I mean, I _told_ them, it’s not –”

“ _Harry_ , if I’d’ve known you weren’t even _out_ to them yet, I wouldn’t have made such a big deal about telling them!” Louis said, petting through Harry’s hair, pushing it out of his face and running his fingers through it. “Shit, Harry, I’m – I’m sorry; I had no idea.”

“What? No, no, it’s fine,” Harry tried to soothe him, but Louis wasn’t having it.

“Harry, you just came out to your friends – your _bandmates; fuck_ , they’re your co-workers! – _and_ told them you were in a relationship, _and_ told them you were expecting a baby with said gay partner. Shit. Are you okay?”

And, really, Harry was pretty sure he was fine. But it felt nice, having someone so fussed and worried about him that he let Louis be worried. Harry didn’t let people worry about him often; he wasn’t used to this, but it felt nice, the way Louis was running fingers over his hair and skin, and looking at him with so much intensity and focus.

Ridiculously, Harry felt his chin tremble, just a little, and Louis said, “Oh, babe,” quietly.

“Come here,” Louis murmured, and pulled Harry down by the back of his neck, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and shoulders. Harry hugged Louis’ waist, and let Louis guide his head to the crook of his neck, where he tucked his face and hummed when Louis scratched his scalp comfortingly, and they rocked side to side while Louis held Harry close.

When Harry’s back finally started to ache, he pressed a kiss to the side of Louis’ neck and pulled back slowly, only pausing to gently kiss Louis’ lips. “Thank you,” he said, breathing out. Weirdly, he felt tons lighter, though he hadn’t even realized he’d been feeling heavy before. “Didn’t even know I needed that.”

Louis kissed Harry again, his lips surrounding Harry’s bottom and licking at the rings pierced there. When he pulled back, he looked understanding and sympathetic. “When I came out, I sat in my mom’s lap and cried for two hours. I didn’t even have a boyfriend, or even anyone I particularly wanted to pursue; I was just terrified. And tired of keeping it a secret from everyone.”

Harry rubbed his thumb over Louis’ wrist, where he was holding it. “Well, I haven’t kept it from _everyone_. I mean, Zayn knew I’m gay. Didn’t know about the baby, of course, but, you know.” Louis nodded with a smile, still so fucking _tender_ with Harry that he didn’t know how to act. “Uhm, do you – think you could come with me when I tell my parents? If not, I could get Zayn t-”

“Do you think it’d make it easier for you?” Louis asked, looking a little surprised. “I mean, haven’t you said things are a little…tense with your parents? You think bringing me along would make it better?”

Harry gave it the proper consideration. Things _were_ tense with his mom, though he loved her dearly. It was more of a result of his…difficult teenage years, in addition to his “hobby of makeup”, as she liked to say, but he did love her and his step-dad very much. Still, though, he couldn’t imagine coming out to his mother alone. “I don’t think it’ll be easy either way,” he admitted slowly, looking down at his feet.

Louis squeezed his hands, and when Harry looked up, he was smiling encouragingly. “Then, we can do it together. When you’re ready.”

\---

When Louis showed up outside the parlor in his car, Harry grinned. He ran to his own car and locked it all up, and slid into the passenger seat, where Louis had his lips puckered and eyebrows raised. “Hi, you,” he chirped.

“Hi,” Harry said, amused, and gave him a little smooch. “What are you in such a good mood for?”

Louis grinned. “My boyfriend’s about to join me for dinner, of course.”

“Is he?” Harry mused, buckling up while Louis pulled out onto the road. “I hope he doesn’t mind me tagging along; I’m _starving_.”

“Of course, he won’t,” Louis said, keeping with the charade. “Though, my best friend does get a little cranky when we’re late, so don’t mind if I speed.”

“Your best – Louis, we’re having dinner with Liam and you didn’t even _tell me_?” Harry pulled down Louis’ sun visor and flipped open the mirror. “I’d at least have worn something nicer, or brought something to change into. I look a mess,” he complained as he thumbed under his eyes. He hadn’t spoken to Liam since that awkward phone call a week before, when Louis had disappeared. Liam had clearly pitied Harry; it was embarrassing. But Harry didn’t mention that. He didn’t think Louis knew about Harry calling people left and right in a frantic desperation, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Louis reached over and slapped the sun visor back up into its rightful position, hitting the tip of Harry’s nose as it went. “Fuck,” he said, rubbing it as his eyes watered reflexively.

“Shit, sorry,” Louis said, though he was laughing. He grabbed Harry’s hand, though, and glared at him sternly. “Harry, you look fine. You’re handsome, you look nice, you look obscene and sexy, and as long as you don’t do something like blatantly insult my best friend, you are in for some ground-shaking sex tonight.”

Harry straightened up at the mention of sex, making Louis cackle. “You still could have told me, Louis,” he muttered. “I want to make a good impression on your friend.”

“Harry, you don’t need _less makeup_ or _nicer clothes_ to do that. I like you how you are, and if Liam knows what’s good for him, he will, too. Plus, he’s really not shallow at all. Less shallow than me, even, and I happen to find you very visually appealing.”

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, finding it difficult to be annoyed at Louis. Louis grabbed his hand, suddenly, squeezing it and pressing their palms flat together, like he wanted to share his energy with Harry. Harry smiled, just to himself, and let Louis do the work of comforting him.

When they pulled up in front of a restaurant Harry had never been to, he side-eyed Louis. “Bluegrass Burgers?” He read from the sign, looking skeptic.

But Louis only grinned and unbuckled, squeezing Harry’s hand before he let go and got out of the car. “Come on, Liam’s already here!”

Harry hesitated, taking a deep breath, and decided that he’d be tied to Louis for the rest of his life, regardless if Liam decided he liked Harry or not. With that in mind, he steeled himself and got out of the car, taking Louis’ hand a little too aggressively, if the glance he got from Louis was any indication. Louis squeezed his fingers, though, and ducked his head with a smile when Harry held the door open for him to go first.

“Welcome to Bluegrass Burgers!” A man with an overly-faked smile greeted. Even Harry could fake better than that.

“Payne, party of three,” Louis said, bringing Harry’s hand up, still clasped in his own. “We’re the other two.”

“Of course,” said the man, looking between the two men and their joined hands as he fumbled for menus. He glanced down at his podium and nodded. “Right this way, sirs.”

Harry and Louis followed him to a table near the corner, where Liam was already sitting, still in his Monday best, whereas Louis had clearly gone home and changed, if his jeans said anything.

Liam stood up with a fond smile for Louis and polite one for Harry. “Hey,” Liam said, giving Louis a hug that pulled his hand from Harry’s. Louis hissed and eased back, and Liam’s thick eyebrows rose into his hairline, nearly (not really; he had a buzz cut). “What’s wrong?” He asked Louis, and Harry echoed the sentiment with a hand on Louis’ back.

“Just a little, uhm, sensitive today,” he said, pressing his hands over his nipples. And, well. _Oh_. Harry wanted to get Louis in bed shirtless and lick his nipples ‘til he came all over himself.

“Is that a thing?” Liam asked, brows furrowing in consternation. “Sensitive nipples?”

“Yes, Li,” Louis sighed, his tone put-upon and making him sound like he thought that would’ve been glaringly obvious. Harry resolved to get a book.

“Hi, Harry,” Liam greeted, offering his hand for a polite handshake. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see no trace of pity or amusement on Liam’s face. He clapped his other hand over the back of Harry’s and held their hands together for a brief moment that left Harry feeling extremely awkward, though he tried to smile through it.

“Come on,” Louis said, tugging on both men’s arms. “I’m starving; you both need to feed me. I demand it.”

Harry grinned while Liam just rolled his eyes, but after they took their seats, a waitress came to ask what they wanted. Louis ordered water, so Harry ordered the same, and when the waitress left, Louis nudged him.

“You can drink, you know; I’m driving, anyway.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said, nudging him back, deciding to ignore Liam’s eyes on him. “If I’m gonna commit to dating you, I need to make sure you’re good in bed when I’m sober, first.”

Louis rolled his eyes; they’d never even been truly drunk together, but Liam coughed, and Louis opened the menu, sharing it with Harry, even though Harry had a perfectly good one right in front of him.

“So, obviously, their specialties are burgers; they come up with all these weird mixes of ingredients to put on their burgers, or you can build your own…or you can have something else, like all of this page,” he said as he flipped to another page of the menu, “is all non-burger stuff. There’s even a little tiny vegetarian section, look at that.”

Harry smiled indulgently, because it looked like that’s what Louis was waiting for, and Louis sighed happily before flipping back. “What do you think you want?” He asked, and Harry laughed.

“I’m getting the Blue Cheese and Buffalo burger,” Liam offered, grinning.

Harry looked for the burger on the menu and read the description, eyes widening a little. “That sounds like taking a bite out of Hell,” he breathed, noticing how many spicy things were piled onto the burger.

Louis snorted and Liam laughed outright, and Harry looked at both of them for a moment before Louis started mumbling.

“I _usually_ get the Fried Heaven burger,” he said, tapping at the menu, “but it really sounds disgusting right now. Hmm…what do you think, Harry?”

“Uh.” Harry scanned the menu and ended up picking quickly. “Think I’ll go standard. Uncle Sam’s Eagle burger.” It was a bacon cheeseburger, double on the meat and cheese. Harry was so hungry, he could decimate that burger. “What about you?”

Louis whined and stared while Liam cleared his throat. “So, Harry, are you guys still performing at the Otto Bar?”

Harry nodded, a real smile actually grazing his face. “Yeah,” he said, “every Friday night. It’s awesome. Nick – the guy who basically just took over the bar – said we really made an impact on the income, so he’s brought us on for another eight performances for sure, and after that, we’ll just sort of…see.”

“That’s great,” Liam said, and Louis huffed out at his menu, distracting them for a second. “Anyway,” Liam said, “Lou said you’re a tattoo artist, too?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, shrugging. “It’s Zayn’s – you remember Zayn, right?” Oddly, Liam blushed a little, but he nodded. “Right,” Harry said, “well, it’s his uncle’s parlor. I’m not really talented, as far as artsy stuff goes, but I can follow a blueprint and color in the lines well enough, so. And I work at Otto, too, twenty hours a week.” _Why did he feel the need to say that?_

“Harry’s doing so well,” Louis said suddenly, giving Harry a fond look before scratching lightly at Harry’s shin and returning to his menu, leaving Harry and Liam unsure of what to say next.

“Uh, so – you’re a head hunter, too?” Harry asked, thinking he’d remembered Louis saying something like that.

“Sure am,” he smiled. “I keep Louis on his toes.” Harry glanced to Louis, who simply rolled his eyes and started mouthing the words on his menu. “I’m a stickler for the book,” Liam added, leaning forward like he was telling a secret. “Louis’ ignored the book since he came in on day one.”

“I didn’t _ignore_ the book on the first day, Liam; I set it on fire and threw it out a window,” Louis said, sounding dreadfully bored, though he was focusing on two sandwiches.

It was kind of fun, seeing Louis so sarcastic. He was witty with Harry, certainly, but nowhere near this bitchy and sassy. Harry thought it was hilarious.

The waitress came by, then, and they ordered, and Louis was a more productive member to their social conversations. Louis was getting more and more cuddly with Harry right next to him, which – only a fool would complain, but Harry wasn’t used to such affection in broad daylight in a public restaurant. By the time they were finished with dinner and waiting on the bills, Louis was practically in Harry’s lap, looking surprisingly sleepy, his lips pressed together in a line the way they’d been before Louis disappeared for a week. Harry started getting antsy, and encouraged the clinginess.

When Liam told the waitress it’d all be on one bill, Harry protested. “Liam, no, I’ll at least get mine and Louis’,” he said, reaching for the bill the waitress handed over.

Louis squawked, and Liam shook his head. “Harry, don’t be silly,” Liam said kindly. “I was the one who invited you; it’s my pleasure to take the bill!”

“Liam, that’s two burgers you didn’t even eat,” Harry continued, but Louis groaned and kissed Harry’s jaw.

“Babe, let it go,” Louis mumbled. “Liam’s filthy rich; old money _and_ new money. Let him get the damn bill.”

Harry huffed, but nodded. “Alright,” he said, and Liam smiled, although it wasn’t one of those smug ones. Harry wondered idly if Liam was ever anything but polite to everyone. “Thank you,” Harry added, because he knew it was kind.

When they stood, Louis went in for a kiss on Liam’s cheek rather than a hug, and Harry remembered his sensitive nipples with a jolt. Louis looked like he could go for a nap, though, so Harry guided him out and asked him quietly, “Want me to drive back?”

Louis shook his head. “I’m okay,” he said, giving Harry a smile. “Need to stay awake. I have things planned for you.” There was a wink there, Harry supposed, but Louis’ eyes were so heavy all of a sudden that his eye closed and stayed closed for a beat too long.

Chuckling, Harry wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders and gently pried the keys from Louis’ hand. “I won’t wreck it,” he promised when Louis went to protest. “I don’t feel safe with you behind any form of machinery, much less one that contains the lives of myself, my boyfriend, and _our baby_.” He whispered the last part into Louis’ ear, low and sweet, and set his teeth gently against Louis’ earlobe, letting them graze across it as he pulled away.

Louis’ breath hitched, and he shivered, relaxing against Harry almost immediately. Harry kissed his temple, waved goodbye to Liam, who was waving at them as he got into his Escalade – good God – and Louis sat down easily in the passenger seat, reaching for the buckle while Harry strode to the driver’s side.

He had to adjust the seat quite a bit – Louis’ legs were like a Chihuahua’s, not that Harry would _ever_ dare voice it – but he drove them home with no difficulties.

Louis was being exceptionally quiet, though when Harry glanced over at him, his eyes were wide, and his hands were curled into fists on his thighs.

“Feeling okay, Lou?” Harry asked, and Louis’ breath hitched, like Harry’s voice had caught him off guard.

“Yeah,” Louis answered simply, and his fists uncurled so that his palms were flat on the tops of his thighs, and he started rubbing his legs impulsively, quickly, like he needed the friction. “Just – ”

He cut himself off, and had the road been less congested, Harry would’ve looked over at him. “Just what?” He asked. “Do you need me to pull over?” Louis suddenly moaned, then, short and low and a little desperate-sounding. Harry’s eyes opened wide, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Drive faster,” Louis said, a little quietly. “It’s been forever since you’ve fucked me, Harry.”

He said it like an accusation, and though Harry could easily point out it was more Louis’ fault than his own, Harry just focused on getting them safely to his apartment.

As soon as Harry got out of the car, Louis was climbing out and instantly attaching himself to Harry’s side, wrapping an arm tight around Harry’s waist and digging his fingers in. Harry led them up the stairs, finally ending at his floor and he struggled with the key for a moment, with how Louis had shifted to stand behind him, kissing the line between Harry’s shoulders, even over his shirt. Harry jumped when Louis’ hands sank down his belly to cup him through his jeans, and Harry stifled a moan as he pushed the door open, Louis needy and pushing him along quickly.

“Bedroom,” Harry said, putting a stop to the idea Louis apparently had forming that Harry would fuck him right there, on the floor in front of the door. Louis huffed but scurried off to Harry’s bedroom anyway, taking off clothes as he went. Harry locked the chain of the door and followed the trail, taking off his own shirt as he went, followed by stepping out of his shoes.

Louis was already on Harry’s bed, naked and waiting, stroking his cock slowly.

“Stop touching,” Harry said, climbing up the bed and sitting on Louis’ hips, just above the curve of Louis’ cock. Louis dropped his hands to the bed, grabbing the sheet in both hands. “Do they hurt bad?” Harry asked, looking down at Louis’ hard nipples.

Louis’ eyes were closed, but his gaze flickered up to Harry, and then down to his nipples, when he realized what Harry was asking, and he blushed. “Uhm, I don’t – I don’t know,” he said, arching his back and relaxing when it got him nowhere, with Harry sitting high on his hips. “I – sometimes I don’t mind if it – it can feel good if it hurts, sometimes,” he said, blushing even darker and chewing on his lip.

Harry’s eyes widened a little bit – sure, Louis had gotten a little bossy the last time they were in bed together, but he hadn’t realized that meant he was a particularly kinky person. “What’s your safe word, babe?”

“I – what?” Louis asked, eyebrows furrowed at Harry like he thought he was crazy. “I’m not – don’t _beat me_ , or anything, just – just _do it_!” He arched his back up again, and grabbed Harry’s thighs, trying to pull and push his hips into rolling to get some friction to his cock.

Harry remained still, and realized he and Louis would have to seriously talk about this.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, leaning down towards Louis. He rested on his forearms on either side of Louis’ head, and kissed Louis’ lips gently. “Listen,” he cooed, “I’m going to play with your nipples. You like it to hurt, sometimes?” Louis chewed on his lip and nodded, nostrils flaring in embarrassment, and Harry smiled. “Hey, it’s good, you’re good. It’s okay. I need you to do something for me, though, okay?” Louis whined wordlessly, but he nodded, eyes opening halfway to watch Harry. “Every once in a while I’m going to ask you a question – I’ll ask you what your color is, okay? I want you to tell me ‘green’ if you like what I’m doing and want more, ‘yellow’ if you need a second to think about it, and I need you to tell me ‘red’ if I do _anything_ you don’t like, okay? Anything. Think you can do that for me? Be good and remember colors?”

Louis whined, scrunching his face up, but he nodded. “Please do something,” he said, and Harry felt Louis’ dick twitch against his back, where he was sitting just above it on Louis’ body.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Harry said quietly, and ducked down. He mouthed gently at Louis’ breastbone, giving a warning as he mouthed kisses across half of Louis’ pec on his way to Louis’ nipple.

Harry licked his lips and closed them around Louis’ nipple, letting spit drop down onto his skin in case it was _too_ sensitive. When Harry licked it, Louis let out a noise that seemed to be half-gasp, half-whimper and arched his back, fingers pulling at Harry’s curls, though Harry couldn’t tell which way. Pulling off, he watched Louis carefully. “What’s your color?” He asked, and Louis nodded wordlessly, pulling Harry’s hair down towards his chest again. “Use your words, Lou,” Harry reminded him softly. “Tell me your color, please.”

“G-green,” Louis said, moaning breathlessly when Harry returned his attention to the nipple.

“Good job.” Harry licked his thumb and forefinger of his other hand before closing the fingers around Louis’ other nipple, rolling and pulling on it just a bit when Louis’ pec muscle jumped. Harry sucked on Louis’ nipple, tongue flickering against it rapidly, and Louis let out a pained sound and tightened his fingers in his hair, squirming to try to get closer and further simultaneously. Louis’ feet moved on the sheets restlessly while he breathed harshly, and Harry switched his mouth to the other nipple, pinching the left one and setting his teeth against the bud of the right.

“Harry,” Louis whined, gasping when Harry hummed in response. “Harry, please.”

“What do you want, hmm?” Harry pulled off Louis’ nipple and pinched it again, looking up to Louis’ red and sweating face. “Do you want to come?” Louis let out a sob and nodded. “Do you think you could come from just this? Just me playing with your nipples?”

Louis opened his mouth to respond, but Harry flicked both nipples and he cried out, shivering from the onslaught of sensation. “ _Please_ ,” Louis said, whiny.

“Answer, babe. Can you come from just this?” Harry pinched both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and pulled, letting the buds slip between his fingers and pinching as they retracted back to his skin normally, red and flushed and hard as little rocks. His nipples were so _tiny_.

“No,” Louis answered, taking big, heaving breaths.

Harry hummed and then lifted up high on his knees. He scooted back a little, perching just over Louis’ hard cock, and rested atop it, grinding his hips enough to create friction on Louis’ cock and make him choke.

“Please,” Louis asked again, rolling his hips as best as he could. His breath hitched when Harry flicked his nipples again.

“Look at you,” Harry said, amazed by both the incredible friction to his cock and Louis’ pretty, flushed body, all coiled up tight like a spring.

He leaned down, still grinding their cocks together and playing with Louis’ nipples, and growled as he bit Louis’ neck, Louis moaning loudly and immediately moving his head to the side.

“N-no…no marks, please,” Louis squeaked out, and Harry eased up, not wanting Louis to be embarrassed at work. “ _Oh_ ,” Louis moaned when Harry swung his hips full circle, catching him off guard. “Oh – Harry, I’m – _please_ -”

“Come on, babe, come for me,” Harry murmured, craning his neck to speak into Louis’ ear, and sucked on his earlobe, licking at the sensitive skin behind it. He pinched Louis’ nipples _hard_ at the same time he grinded his hips down hard and bit at his neck again, and Louis choked off a cry as he tried to arch up under Harry’s body, coming in thick spurts between them, shaking and gripping Harry’s hair tightly enough that it began to sting Harry’s scalp.

Harry raised himself up on his knees, so he didn’t brush Louis’ cock, but he shifted his attention back to his nipples, pressing tiny little kisses to the very tops of them, making Louis’ entire body jerk.

“We forgot your car,” Louis said randomly, slurring his words as his breath started to return to normal. His fingers eased up in Harry’s hair, and Harry ducked his head, laughing, and kissed his lips.

“I’ll call a cab tomorrow morning,” he assured Louis, petting down the side of his throat. “You were so good, Louis, that was amazing,” he cooed, making Louis flush.

“You – let me suck your dick,” he said, sitting up and looking dazed. Almost absent-mindedly, he ran his finger through some of the come on his stomach, scooping it up on his finger, and put it into his mouth. Harry nearly keeled over. His cock _definitely_ jumped.

“It’s fine, let me go get you a rag,” Harry began, but Louis grabbed his wrist, looking embarrassed.

“I – you said I did good,” he said, flushing all over again. He looked humiliated to be _asking_ again after being turned down, and Harry didn’t like that.

“You _did_ , you did _so_ good, Lou,” he said, cupping Louis’ face in his palm. He kissed Louis thoroughly, his cock throbbing, probably irritated at being ignored so much.

“Let me, then,” Louis breathed, not making eye contact, so Harry nodded, finally.

“Okay,” he murmured, brushing hair from Louis’ eyes. “Thank you, baby.”

Louis bit his lip, blushing as he made his way shyly between Harry’s knees. He didn’t waste time teasing – probably too tired – and Harry had to take a deep breath so he didn’t come the second Louis’ hot, wet mouth surrounded his cock.

Louis let it get sloppy fast, dropping saliva down Harry’s shaft to mix with precome, so sliding down his cock would be easier. Harry loved it, carding fingers through his hair and watching with wide eyes.

Louis took him down too far and gagged, but only pulled back slightly. He took a deep breath and tried again, making Harry groan. “Oh, good job, baby,” he said, stroking Louis’ hair. Louis kept going back down every time he pulled off, gagging but forcing himself to take it. “That’s so – _uh_ – so good.”

Louis pressed his tongue up hard as he went down, what _should_ be a gross, gurgling sound coming from his mouth as he grabbed Harry’s hips to keep himself from backing up, vibrating around Harry’s dick. Harry’s breath started coming faster and faster, and soon he was tightening the grip he had on the sheets and trying not to pull Louis’ hair with the other. “Lou,” he warned, gritting his teeth as Louis hummed, his big blue eyes open and looking up at Harry with tears in them. Harry flexed down to his _toes_ and moaned, coming so hard he had a slight headache by the time he relaxed back down onto the bed, his body having curved up like a bowl while Louis struggled to take it.

Come landed on Louis’ lip when he pulled off a little too early to be neat, but Harry lazily pulled him down on top of him, humming as he kissed it off. Louis was panting just as much as Harry was, looking utterly exhausted.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled as he cuddled Louis close. He reached down to the ground and grabbed a t-shirt, wiping both of their stomachs off, having smeared Louis’ come on himself after pulling him down to lay together. “That was incredible, my _god_.”

Louis moaned in response, muffling the sound against Harry’s chest. In what seemed like revenge, he bit down on Harry’s right nipple, making Harry jump a bit and laugh as he curled his body around Louis’ head, grabbing his face to tug him off.

“Hey, crap head,” he tried to say reproachfully, but Louis only closed his eyes and grinned, letting Harry hold his face up for him. Harry softened, staring at Louis being _so adorable_ after being such a fireball in bed – which reminded him. “Hey, we have to talk tomorrow, okay?” Louis hummed again, and Harry gently laid his head back down onto his chest, running through his hair and down his spine. Harry gave himself four chins looking down at him. “Seriously, babe; it’s important, okay? Don’t forget. After work.”

Louis hummed again, nodding. “Are you breaking up with me?” He asked, startling laughter from Harry that was too loud for either of them in such tired states.

“No,” he said, exasperated. “Go to sleep.”

\---

Harry texted Louis good morning when he woke up, the other side of the bed cold already. He was just giving the cabbie the address to the parlor when his phone vibrated in his back pocket.

_My nipples have never been so sore. Don’t know if I want to thank you for great sex or punch you for awful after-effects!!_

Harry snorted quietly when he read it, but before he could answer, his phone vibrated again. _Also don’t forget you said we had to talk._

Harry’s smile faded a little, remembering how bewildered Louis had seemed with the idea of a safe word. He knew not everyone used them, of course – some people simply said ‘stop’ or ‘no’, and didn’t mess around with any resistance play, but he didn’t want to take chances. He and Louis were still getting to know each other, after all, boyfriends after only a few weeks, and he didn’t want to jeopardize anything.

 _Talk when we get home. All good things, just important. Also, rub lotion on them, like aloe or something. Have a good day!:)_ , he texted back, pocketing his phone. Louis wouldn’t text back; he rarely did at work unless he had something important or really funny to say.

Life at work was now a little different, even in the two days since Harry had told the boys about him and Louis and the baby. Zayn hadn’t told any of the other guys at the parlor about Louis or the new baby – and he wouldn’t; Harry knew Zayn to be extremely loyal and, also, very good at keeping secrets, which was why he knew about Harry being gay in the first place. But Zayn _did_ know, and every morning when they saw each other for work, Zayn asked about Louis.

It wasn’t as if he asked invasive questions, even – just a, ‘Hey, Harry, how’s Louis doing?’ – and it was actually polite and kind of him to even be interested. It was just – Harry wasn’t used to _sharing_ all that much, and Zayn wasn’t used to asking after things that didn’t directly affect him. It was kind of strange, but Harry tried to swallow around the weird feelings he got whenever Zayn happened to ask about Louis or anything remotely baby-like.

Just before Harry got off work, he got another text from Louis, asking if he wanted to meet at Louis’ place or his own. Harry still didn’t know how to get to Louis’, though, so he answered to go to his.

He cleaned up and hopped into his car, patting the car’s dashboard in apology for leaving it overnight. Once he got back to his apartment, he was a little surprised to see Louis wasn’t leaning up against his door. He checked his phone as he unlocked his way into his apartment, but Louis hadn’t texted him about a change of plans, so he just let it go and grabbed a drink from the fridge, realizing he needed to start in on a grocery list.

Sighing, because his Walmart was shitty and grocery shopping took _forever_ , Harry grabbed out the notepad from the drawer by the fridge and started making his list.

By the time he got to dairy products, there was a knock on Harry’s door.

Harry answered his door to Louis, who was carrying an overnight bag with a blush, only one of which he tried to explain when Harry lifted an eyebrow. “Listen,” he said a little obstinately, “I’m being responsible. We both know we’ll end up doing something and I’ll fall asleep and there’s no way I’m ever going to suffer getting up early enough to go home and get ready, like I did this morning, and I _sincerely_ doubt you own a non-black button-up – oh, crap, do you own an iron and ironing board? I didn’t even think about that. The point is,” he soldiered on, not allowing Harry to answer him, “that I’m trying to be a responsible adult. I’ve done it for nearly four years; I think I’ll be okay. Can’t afford to lose our jobs now, right?”

With that, Louis paused, shuffling his feet, a little antsy. “Uhm, you don’t mind, do you? I know it’s presumptuous, but –”

Harry grabbed the bag off Louis’ shoulder and slung it over his own, and pulled Louis in by the small of his back. Louis placed his hands on Harry’s chest and leaned up on his tiptoes, and Harry kissed him, slow and sweet, long enough to calm his nerves. “I think it’s a great idea,” he said, “and if you want, you could bring a few outfits and stuff over, to keep here. I mean, we stay here pretty often, but it’s just me, so I really don’t mind having your stuff here. It basically means less worrying about if you got home from a taxi ride, really, since you never let me drive you home at night.”  
Louis stuck his tongue out and wiggled away, heading towards Harry’s door. “You don’t need to drive me home!” He called, and Harry just rolled his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t win this battle any time soon.

Harry followed Louis’ voice and found him on his bed, sitting Indian-style and propped up against a few pillows, waiting for Harry.

“You wanted to talk?” Louis prompted when Harry leaned against the door frame, watching him just _be_.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, nodding. He sighed as he walked into his room, crawling up the bed to join Louis. “Uhm, about last night,” he hedged, and Louis blushed.

“I get it, I know it was weird,” he muttered, leaning back, but Harry interrupted him.

“What? _No_ , Louis, last night was incredible. I mean, it was for me; I – I think you had a pretty good time, right?” Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes because, of course, Harry already knew Louis enjoyed it. He licked his lips. “It’s just, uhm. You – remember when I asked about safe words? And you kind of…like, thought I wanted to – you told me not to _beat you_.” Louis was squirming uncomfortably, now, and Harry asked, “I was just – wondering why…you thought I would do that.”

Louis sighed, looking down at the blanket beneath his feet. “It’s just – you know, all that – safe word…stuff. That’s all, like – that really _weird_ kind of sex? Like, all the – leather, and the…you know. Where the big one, like, takes advantage of the other one, and shit. I don’t – I mean, sometimes, I don’t mind, like. I’ve never _done_ any of that stuff, like even – even last night, I’ve never… But, you know, sometimes I’ve – thought, kind of, about stuff like that, and I don’t think I’d really… _mind_ it. I just – you know, you can’t – with a baby, and stuff, like it probably wouldn’t…I don’t want to be scared, or, like, _really_ hurt, ‘cause it – affects the baby, and stuff.”

Harry had listened with horror as Louis talked, incredulous that Louis had somehow managed to have _every_ misconception about BDSM under the book. “ _Louis_ ,” he breathed, and reached forward to grab Louis’ hands. “Listen, babe, you’ve – you’ve got it all wrong. Like, _all_ wrong. It’s not – BDSM isn’t like that, at _all_. Maybe in porn,” he corrected himself with a grimace, and Louis blushed, but he laughed a little. It softened Harry’s face, but his heart was still pounding. “Listen, like. Okay, so – there’s nothing _weird_ about BDSM. Like, at all, there’s nothing weird about it. It’s all about control; not pain. Not like you’re thinking. That’s something else entirely. But, like…what we did last night, that’s just – that’s just _kink_ , and there’s nothing weird, or, like, _wrong_ with it. It’s perfectly normal. I bet you know at least ten people who are into some kind of kink.” Louis’ face looked doubtful, so Harry said, “I’ve – I was introduced to BDSM _really_ young, like, almost immediately after my first time with any kind of sex encounter.”

Louis’ eyes went wide, and he looked concerned. “It’s okay,” Harry assured him, rubbing circles on the back of Louis’ hand with his thumb. “I’m fine. But the thing is…I like it. I’m, you know, used to it. That’s not saying that vanilla sex isn’t _great_ ; I love it. I just…sometimes, you need to be in control. Or give it up, conversely. That’s all BDSM is.”

Louis nodded slowly. “But…you want me to – what? I don’t, I mean. Aren’t…aren’t safe words just for all the, uhm, hitting…and stuff?”

“ _No_ , oh my god, no, babe,” Harry said, shaking his head. How did Louis not know this stuff? He’d been _so_ dominating when he’d ridden Harry, a few weeks ago.

“It’s not like that _at all_. It’s – safe words are about safety. Just – so, okay, like, when you – it’s called a _scene_ , or, like, _play_. So, when you play, sometimes, you kind of let go, like, a little too much – it’s not a bad thing, but…have you ever had sex so good it felt like you couldn’t even think?” Viciously hoping Louis was thinking about sex with him, Harry watched as Louis blushed and nodded. “Right, so, the safe word helps with that. Remember how we talked about red, yellow, green?” Louis nodded again. “Those help. It’s easy to remember – like traffic lights, right, you’re used to those, you know what they mean. So, like, last night, when I asked your color and you _liked_ what I was doing, you said green, and that was awesome. But if I had kept going, and you started feeling like you couldn’t think, and you didn’t really know how you felt, you should say ‘yellow’. It doesn’t mean anything is _wrong_ ; it just means you need me to give you a second, or slow down, maybe. Just let you think it through, let you figure out if you’re okay with what’s happening or not. And, like, if I had done something you didn’t like, you should have said ‘red’, and we’d stop, I’d give you a shitload of attention, and we’d talk about it, later, so I know not to do it again.”

Louis was looking a little overwhelmed already, and Harry smiled in sympathy, squeezing Louis’ hand.

“So, uh,” Louis began in a small voice. “So, you’re always – in charge, or whatever?” He asked, not quite meeting Harry’s eye.

Harry shrugged, and then, with his free hand, lifted Louis’ chin up. “If you want,” he said. “I can go either way. Remember a few weeks ago, when you called me a slut, and took charge and stuff?” Louis blushed furiously, but Harry grinned. “That was _hot_ ; fucking incredible, really. I _usually_ Dom – I’m usually _in charge_ , I guess. But it’s whatever you’re comfortable with. I like it either way. Or, even if we don’t do stuff like that often. I just like sex with you. It’s fun.”

Louis still looked hesitant, so Harry pulled him close, shifting them around so that he was sitting up against the headboard, and Louis was sitting between his legs - facing each other, but much closer than before. “I’m not going to, like, make you wear leather, or anything,” he said, “and I won’t _ever_ hurt you in ways you don’t like. It’s not about what _I_ want, if we do more stuff like that. It’s never about _my_ desires. It’s about what _we_ want, collectively. You – like sex to hurt a little, sometimes, and I wanted to see how sensitive your nipples were, last night. Can you tell me, honestly, did you like that? Would you want to do it again?”

Louis’ face was probably going to never be a normal color again. Still, he took a deep breath and nodded, so Harry gave him a smile. “I’m glad you liked it,” he said honestly. “It’ll be like that. I’m not going to, like, scar you with a whip, or anything. I’ll never leave bad marks on you – only ones you ask for, like how you wanted me to keep playing with your nipples, and now they’re probably still swollen and red, right? Stuff like that. I wouldn’t do anything without your explicitly expressed consent.”

Louis squirmed again, looking into Harry’s eyes and looking away just as quickly. “Can I – uhm, can I think about it?” He asked, voice small.

“Of course, babe,” Harry replied, frowning when Louis sighed with relief. “Hey,” he said, catching Louis’ attention. “No matter what you say, I’m sticking around. I’m not going to be upset, or ask you to do anything you don’t want to, okay? And I’m not gonna go look for it anywhere else, either. I’m with you. You’re my boyfriend, and the father of my baby. I want to be with you, regardless of what you want to do in bed. That stuff takes trust. I want you to trust that I would _never_ hurt you. We’ll get there, okay?”

Louis nodded, a little smile gracing his lips, and he leaned forward and kissed Harry deeply, hands wrapping around the side and back of his neck, fingers playing gently with Harry’s little baby hairs. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together and not looking up. “For explaining all of that. Uhm, especially the last part.”

Harry jutted forward to kiss Louis’ lips again briefly, rubbing up and down Louis’ back. “Of course,” he said. “Thank you for listening.”

Louis was pretty quiet the rest of the night, but he was also a little clingy, staying close to Harry and even going so far as to sit outside the bathroom while Harry went to take a shit, leaning against the opposite wall and playing some game on his phone. Harry hadn’t realized Louis was there, so when he came out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his jeans, he jumped and kicked the door frame on accident, swearing. “You scared the shit out of me, Louis!” Harry moaned, comforting his toe and limping down the hallway.

Louis followed him, apologizing and demanding to look at Harry’s foot.

“It’s fine,” Harry insisted, but he took one look at Louis’ glare and sighed, hoisting himself up on the counter in the kitchen, and lifted his leg.

Louis touched his foot gently, like it was made of porcelain, and then looked up at Harry with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Lou, it’s fine,” Harry said, wondering what the hell was up with Louis. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet tonight.”

“Just, you know, thinking,” he said. “About the…sex stuff.”

“You can say ‘BDSM’, babe,” Harry prompted gently. “It’s not dirty.”

“The – BDSM, then,” Louis huffed.

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, then asked, “What, uh – what about it?”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t – I mean, I don’t know? I – like the idea, of, like, sex like last night’s. It was, you know, it was really good. But I don’t – I don’t know, what if, like, you want things I don’t want, or the other way around?”

“Then we talk about it,” Harry replied instantly. “Seriously, I meant it when I said I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want. And it wouldn’t be right of you to do it to me.”

“Well, like, say I wanted you to – I don’t know, like, slap me in the face, or something,” Louis said, getting a little worked up. “And you didn’t want to hit me, but I begged you to, so you did? Like, what would that be?”

“It wouldn’t happen like that,” Harry said calmly. “We’re not – before we do any more sex like that, we have to sit down and talk about stuff. We’re not going to go and play blind, babe. I’m not going to ask you what you want when you’re having your nipples tortured, or whatever. We decide before we play; that’s how it works.”

Louis fidgeted. “What do we have to still talk about?” He asked.

“What we’re into,” Harry said. “Like, make a list – what you absolutely do _not_ want, what you’d be open to exploring, what you definitely want. And I do the same thing.”

“But I don’t know what I want,” Louis said blankly. “I mean, I don’t – I don’t know any of this stuff, Harry. You know all of it.”

“Not all of it,” Harry placated, wrapping his legs around Louis and drawing him in closer. He cupped Louis’ cheek and kissed his forehead. “There’s still a lot to learn, and it’s different with every partner you sleep with, whether you play with them, or not. And we can, like, Google stuff, if you want. For ideas. You won’t like everything I do, and I might not want everything you do. We compromise, we talk, we handle it like mature adults. That’s how it works.”

Louis tucked his head beneath Harry’s chin. “It’s embarrassing,” he mumbled. He tried to hide his face more, but Harry grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back, regarding him seriously.

“What’s embarrassing about it?” He asked. “What’s more incredible than having great sex every time, between two people who trust each other and care for each other, and knowing exactly what they want because they’ve talked about it?”

“No, I meant – I meant, like, it’s embarrassing, you’re younger than me and know way more about sex than I do,” Louis said, blushing.

Harry scrunched his face up. “I was having sex quite a while before you were,” he said blankly. Before Louis could question him, though – he always did whenever Harry brought up his earliest sex life – Harry said, “We’ll learn from each other, okay?”

Louis nodded. “Could, uhm. Could we – do that now? If you want?”

“Come here,” Harry said, tilting Louis’ chin up. He kissed Louis gently, pressing a hand over Louis’ heart. He noticed it was racing, and kept kissing him slowly with the intention of not stopping until it slowed significantly.

Louis reached up on his toes and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, fingers immediately going to play in Harry’s hair, as usual. Harry hummed into Louis’ mouth at the feeling, and kept it relatively innocent and clean. By the time Louis was relaxed, Harry’s lips were swollen and probably very, very dark red. “Let’s go make a list, then,” he said, reaching down to pat at Louis’ butt to get him to move.

Louis moved to the small table Harry had found on a sidewalk in Upper East, a few weeks after he’d moved into the apartment. The chairs were also found, and none of them matched or were even very comfortable, but Louis picked the obnoxiously multi-colored chair, so Harry chose the one next to him, one with a red-and-white striped cushion on it.

Harry pulled the grocery list he’d been working on earlier off the notepad and drew a few lines down the paper, a **Harry** side and a **Louis** side, with _yes_ , _maybe_ , and _no_ in their own spaces.

“Okay,” Harry said, opening up the laptop lying next to them. He tapped it to life, and typed in Google. Louis curled in closer to him, his hand squeezing Harry’s thigh. “Let’s do this,” Harry muttered, typing in _bdsm kinks_. He pressed enter.

\---

By the time Harry and Louis went to bed that night, both were hard as rocks. They agreed beforehand not to play, though, so Harry shut the computer and stood, taking Louis by the hand and leading him into his bedroom. Louis followed silently, and they got undressed, watching each other. When Harry flopped back on the bed, though, Louis remained standing, naked save his boxers and looking a little uncertain.

“Hey, come here,” Harry said softly.

Louis did, crawling onto the bed and laying directly on top of Harry, his face resting on Harry’s collarbone and feet tangled up with Harry’s.

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, squeezing tight for a moment before relaxing them, and ran his hands up and down Louis’ back. “I thought you felt better about all that stuff, babe; what’s wrong?”

It had taken Louis nearly half an hour of blushing and stuttering through half-assed opinions when they started looking through kinks, but Harry had been candid and completely unshakeable, explaining things gently and even going as far as to look up porn for a few kinks he couldn’t explain very well. He’d explained a few of his hard limits, though he’d left out the ones he thought might make Louis balk, like knife play and suspension, and written quite a few things he _really_ liked and a few things he was mildly into, along with a few things he’d never tried but would be open to.

Eventually, Louis had relaxed, though he still coughed, embarrassed, when he’d pointed out kinks that sounded like something he might be a little into. He’d also been almost comically alarmed by some of the kinks, pushing his chair back and shaking his head rapidly, eyes wide as saucers when he told Harry he didn’t want his cock and balls to be tortured.

“Who _does_ that?!” He’d exclaimed, and Harry grimaced.

“Some people like it,” Harry reasoned diplomatically. “It’s okay if you aren’t, though. It’s not everyone’s thing.”

“Is it…one of yours?” Louis had asked, after they’d gone over at least ten other kinks. “That, uhm – the torture…stuff. To your – you know. Is that one of your things?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not something I particularly enjoy as a Dom. I’ve done it before, when someone asked me to, but I didn’t really get anything from it, other than giving them what they want. As a sub, well. I’ve only had it done once, but that was, uh…not really a good scene to begin with, basically. So, uhm. No, it’s not really a thing of mine.” Harry could tell, once again, that Louis wanted to know, but he took a deep breath and read out of the list, “ _Figging_.”

The evening had been filled with discussion, awkward quiets, and many, many bathroom breaks from Louis, who growled in frustration every time he had to get up, but it had been educational, and very helpful.

Now, though, Louis nodded against Harry’s chest. “No, I am,” he insisted, aimlessly tracing tattoos on Harry’s chest with his finger. “Just – I don’t know, I think I’m, like… What if I’m, like, bad at it? Like, all that kink stuff? And I don’t want – I mean, not that Liam would, like, _make fun of me_ for it, or anything, but I don’t – I don’t want everyone to _know_ , like…that’s embarrassing.”

Harry looked down, biting on his lip ring. “Hey,” he said, a little reproachfully. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s nothing wrong with what we like. But either way, why would our friends know?”

Louis pushed himself up, leaning his elbows on Harry’s chest. “You wouldn’t tell everyone?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “Would you like me to?” He asked, and Louis scrunched his nose up, shaking his head as he blushed. “Then, why would I? This isn’t about, like, making you _mine_ , and ruining you for anyone else ever, or making you embarrassed. You’re not my _toy_ , Lou; you’re my boyfriend. And if we have really mind-blowing, kinky sex, well, that’s our business, and I don’t see why two grown men can’t have that. Sex is between us; not us and our friends and families. If you want to talk to a friend about it, that’s fine, but I certainly wouldn’t like it if you gave them a detailed account of exactly what both of us are like in bed. Not because I’m ashamed of my kinks,” he added in a rush, seeing doubt entering Louis’ eyes again, “but because it’s private, for me and you.” Louis took a deep breath, and then nodded. “As for you being bad at this…” Harry shrugged. “You’re learning. I’m learning. Who’s to say what we’re good or bad at? We’ll figure it out; it’s just like regular sex. You find out what each other likes and play up to that.”

Louis nodded again. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“Good. Now,” Harry said, and smiled, “get that face of yours down here, and kiss me.”

Louis smiled and complied, sucking on Harry’s bottom lip and running his tongue over the rings, making Harry chuckle. “You like them, don’t you?” He asked, pulling away with a self-satisfied grin.

“Shut up,” Louis said, swatting Harry playfully in the chest. “I do,” he added, softer, and licked a swipe across Harry’s lip before kissing him again.

Harry smiled into the kiss and let his hands slide down, sneakily grabbing his ass and squeezing. Louis moaned, but when Harry pressed a single finger against his hole, through his boxers, Louis tensed up.

“Not tonight,” he said, petting Harry’s chest. “I’ve got the appointment tomorrow; I don’t want them to…you know.” Louis blushed, and Harry tried not to laugh. Even though he was going to the doctors for a _prenatal_ appointment, he didn’t want them to see his reddened hole and know he was fucked.

“That’s fine,” Harry whispered. “Want me to suck you off?” Louis groaned, face planting against Harry’s chest, and Harry laughed. “See how these rings feel around your cock, babe?”

“Yes, please,” Louis answered quietly, and Harry flipped them over, quick as anything.

He slid down Louis’ body, planting kisses everywhere, including his nipples, making Louis catch his breath and then giggle. When Harry pulled off Louis’ boxers, he sling-shotted them across the room, grinning at Louis’ laugh, and Harry pressed smiling kisses in a line across Louis’ waist, hipbone to hipbone.

Harry grabbed the base of Louis’ cock and licked a line up the thick ridge of the underside, tongue flat and a little rough. He licked stripes up Louis’ cock and then sucked kisses along the shaft, letting saliva fall from his lips and roll down it to slick it up.

Suddenly, he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed down, taking Louis’ cock to the back of his throat. Louis gasped and jerked his hips up, and Harry let him, humming.

“Fuck,” Louis swore, throwing his head back and flinging an arm over to cover his eyes. His breathing was already ragged, and Harry pulled off, sucking as hard as he could. He focused on the head, rubbing it against his bottom lip, noticing every time Louis’ stomach muscles jerked, like a jolt was going through his body whenever he caught a lip ring against the slit.

Harry focused on making it good for Louis, drawing it out and teasing him until Louis physically wrapped his fingers in Harry’s hair and pushed his head down, silently telling him to stop teasing. Harry moaned, cock rubbing the back of his throat, and Louis came with a shouted curse. Harry continued to suck his cock, moaning until Louis’ hips twitched away from his mouth.

Harry kissed up Louis’ happy trail and then crawled up to get Louis’ neck into his mouth, proud with the way Louis hadn’t even commented. “Be right back, babe,” Harry murmured in his ear, giving his limp lips a kiss.

He went to the bathroom and pulled out his jewelry box – a small cardboard box filled with smaller, clear plastic boxes filled with rings. Harry picked out the lip ring box and opened it, selecting four small studs. He’d had the hoop rings in for a few weeks, since his first performance at the bar, and now he’d given a blowjob; the friction had made his lip a little sore.

Harry took out the hoops, placing them on a soap dish to be sanitized later, and put in the two diamond studs into the holes that had been filled. He also placed the remaining two studs – shiny black ones – into the holes _next_ to them, filling up his shark bite piercings again. Harry sighed as he closed the box; he wanted to change his facial jewelry, now that he’d done some.

As Harry was picking out his nose ring – a plain silver hoop, fitted so it wouldn’t have a gap between the ring and skin – Louis came in, standing behind him. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s stomach, watching in the mirror while Harry took out the stud he’d been wearing and threaded the hoop in upside down.

“No hoops?” Louis asked, moving his hand up to point at Harry’s lip.

“Bit sore,” he said, though he grinned to show Louis he didn’t mind. “Love sucking cock, but I always forget to change the rings out first.”

“Didn’t mean to hurt you,” Louis mumbled, stroking Harry’s bottom lip very gently as he watched in the mirror.

“It’s fine, babe,” Harry assured him. “They needed to be sanitized, anyway.”

Louis watched as Harry set his nostril stud into the soap dish, as well, and picked out his earring boxes – two of them.

“Which – uhm, which ones do you like?” Harry asked, opening one of them. “For these,” he explained, craning his head at an angle and stroking his finger over the three holes on his forward helix.

“I can pick them?” Louis asked, a little surprised.

Harry smiled. “Only if you promise not to make me look stupid,” he replied.

But Louis was already on his tip toes, looking over Harry’s shoulder as he poked his way through Harry’s box. “I’m seen out in public with you too much; I’m not gonna make you look bad,” he said absently, though he grinned to let Harry in on the joke.

Harry let Louis pick his forward helix stud for his right ear, a lobe ring for each ear, and a tragus for his left ear, and let Louis pick between an electric blue or a dark green bar for his eyebrow (Louis picked green, “to bring out your pretty eyes; you cover them with your makeup”).

As Louis searched for the _just right_ tiny little bar for Harry’s anti-eyebrow (one he rarely wore, but, hey, Harry wanted a change, right?), he said quietly, “I’ve got that appointment tomorrow at 12:30.”

“Yeah?” Harry responded, hoping Louis would invite him.

“Yeah,” Louis said. He was quiet for a while after that, and Harry’s stomach was starting to sink when Louis took a deep breath. “It’s Hanna Jesionowska’s place, on 74th street. At 12:30. You can come, I guess, if you want to.”

Harry opened his mouth to confirm that _of course_ , he would be there, but Louis just pressed a little bar into Harry’s fingers and left, giving his shoulder a little kiss as he went.

Harry put the bar in, wincing because it’d been so long since he’d had weight there, and took his time properly sanitizing the rings, wanting to give Louis space, since he’d gotten so quiet.

By the time Harry came back into his room, Louis was already asleep, or pretending to, so Harry laid down next to him, wrapping an arm around the dip of Louis’ waist.

\---

Harry hurried into the building, not wanting to run but definitely not wanting to miss the appointment. When he reached the small waiting room and spotted Louis, with his feet up in his chair, fiddling with his shoelaces nervously, Harry felt himself deflate a little, relief running high-speed through his body.

“Louis,” he breathed out, approaching the man with a weak and happy smile.

“Harry,” Louis answered, standing up and sounding awed and _at least_ equally as relieved. “I didn’t think you were coming,” he confessed, grabbing Harry’s hands and letting on how nervous he was; his hands were clammy and shaking, a little bit.

“No, I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, leaning in to kiss Louis’ forehead. “This stupid tattoo ran long because she wouldn’t _stay still_ , and then, of course, lunch traffic in _New York City_ ; it was a nightmare. I should have taken a taxi, or the bus, but I knew _you_ were doing that, and I didn’t want –”

“Harry, shhh, it’s fine,” Louis interrupted, sounding a little giggly. “It’s alright; I’m just glad you’re here.” He laid his head against Harry’s chest, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, and Harry felt like a balloon had just been painfully expanded right next to his heart, filling his chest and lungs up with _too much_ air.

Harry sank down into a chair, pulling Louis with him, into his lap, and let himself comfort Louis. They might have only known each other a month, but if Louis was carrying his child – even if he wasn’t, really – Harry cared enough for him that he wanted Louis to not be scared about anything.

Harry noticed it had gotten significantly quieter in the waiting room. Not that it had been _loud_ upon his arrival, but now, it was deadly silent. Harry opened his eyes and lifted his head from where he’d let it rest on top of Louis’, and realized how different he looked from all the other men in the room. None of the other dads or dads-to-be or hopeful-to-be-dads in the room looked a single thing like Harry, with the sole exception that they were men, and Harry wondered if Louis had noticed it. Then he wondered why he cared.

Before he could say anything, though, a nurse opened a door further into the building and called Louis’ name.

Louis’ head popped up, and he took a shaky breath when he stood, waving at her to let her know he was here. Harry stood after him, picking up the sweater Louis had unintentionally left behind and following when she told beckoned them forward.

“I’m Perrie,” she said with a smile, and Louis and Harry both let out nervous, “ _Hi, Perrie_ ”s. “I’m just your technician, so I’m gonna be asking a few questions and checking vitals, that sort of thing. Nothing too big.” She showed them into a room, and had Harry sit down on a chair. “Now, Louis, if you could take your shoes off and step on the scale for me…”

Harry watched Perrie take Louis’ vitals, laughing when she placed a giant popsicle stick-looking thing on the back of his tongue and he gagged. “Not all of us are good enough to take cock in our sleep,” Louis half-snapped, making Harry snort. Louis looked at Perrie, immediately horrified, though, and Harry bit his lip.

“He’s just nervous,” Harry said, before Louis could dig himself into a hole with his nervous babbling.

Perrie hadn’t blinked at the exchange, though, smiling and nodding. “It’s fine with me,” she said with a shrug, and patted Louis’ arm. “You’re not about to offend my delicate sensibilities, sweetheart. Now, let me just…”

Harry noticed the grateful look Louis shot at him and took it with a wink, sitting back and letting Perrie and Louis go through his family history and finish up his vitals. “Alright,” she said finally, “Dr. Pinnock will be in before you know it,” she said, “unless you’d rather a male OB, for, ah…familiarity? We’ve got one on staff…”

“No,” Louis said, sounding embarrassed. “I’m – I’m sure Dr. – Pinnock, you said? – will be just fine, thank you.”

Perrie left the room, and Louis started curling up again, so Harry thought, _fuck the rules_ , and made his way over to the bench Louis had been sat on. “Hey,” he said comfortingly, swinging a leg high to hitch himself over the side. He pulled Louis close to his chest, feeling Louis relax back against him, and rubbed a few fingers over Louis’ forearm. “Lou, why are you so nervous?” He asked. “You’re a healthy twenty-six-year-old man. You’re young, you’re safe, you eat pretty well, you work out pretty regularly. I’m here with you, one hundred percent, okay?”

Louis took a shuddery breath and nodded, and they rocked together in silence until there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” they both called, and a pretty woman with dark curls tied back poked her head in.

“Louis Tomlinson?” She asked, and Louis raised his hand, only to return it to grab Harry’s thigh tightly when Harry moved to return to his seat. “And you must be…” Dr. Pinnock consulted her chart before looking up brightly, “Mr. Styles? Daddy?”

Harry cleared his throat, nodding from behind Louis. “I’m – uhm, yeah, I’m Dad,” he said, and Dr. Pinnock smiled, sitting down in her rolling chair.

“Excellent. Okay, guys, first things first. Louis, you should know that here at Jesionowska’s, you’re in great care. Myself and Dr. _Matthew_ Jesionowska, Dr. Hanna Jesionowska’s husband, both specialize in male prenatal and postnatal care. Do you know much about male pregnancy?”

Louis shook his head slowly, looking back at Harry for some reason, and Harry rested his hand over Louis’, where it was squeezing his thigh.

Dr. Pinnock just smiled, though. “That’s alright; that’s what I’m here for. Male pregnancy occurs, as I’m sure you two have figured out, after an act of anal sodomy. Now, only about one in every twelve males possesses the chromosomal variation necessary for male pregnancy, and Louis, here, seems to be one of those twelve! Lucky man,” she added with a smile. Harry squeezed Louis’ hand again. “If you know anything about _female_ pregnancy, you’ll notice that symptoms and protocol are mostly the same, with the exception that you’re symptomatically about three weeks ahead of women, in most cases. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re probably already having bouts of frequent urination, sensitivity in your breast tissue, mainly the areola and nipple, _possibly_ a bit of achiness, random fatigue where none would normally be present, a slightly heightened sexual arousal temperament and libido?”

Louis blushed, but nodded. “Uhm, I – not the, uh, aching, and the fatigue isn’t, like – it’s not _bad_ …”

“Good,” Dr. Pinnock answered. “Typically, the only thing that starts later in male pregnancy than female is the morning sickness symptoms. It’s okay if you’re feeling nauseous every once in a while, but most dads don’t report being actually sick until later in their first trimester or early in their second. Other than that, any symptoms you may know about or read about may or may not be relevant to you; no symptoms are more important than others, except contractions in labor.”

Louis gave a little laugh at that, and blushed when nobody else did, so Harry laughed, too. Even though he and Louis had read some of this information, having a real doctor say it was so bizarre and a little shocking. He didn’t know what to do, so he just kept holding Louis’ hand and trying to stay upright.

“If you start noticing changes in your body, or fluctuation of your weight, try to write it down. If it’s about three to six pounds per week, I wouldn’t worry about it too much; a lot of that’s going to be water weight and food, as I suspect you’ll start craving here soon, if you’re as far along as I think you might be.”

“I can’t be more than a month,” Louis said. “I mean, we – the, uh, first time we had sex, the condom ripped, so I’m guessing – but that was right at three weeks ago, so…”

Dr. Pinnock nodded, humming. “Well, I was thinking right at a month, to be honest, but we’ll have to do a few tests – nothing bad!” She added when Harry stiffened a little. “A blood sample, a urinalysis, things like that. It’s _really_ nothing bad; I promise. Before we do any of that, though,” she said, pulling her chair closer to Harry and Louis with her feet, pulling a pen from her breast pocket and clicking it open. “I need to ask you guys about yours and your families’ medical histories. If you don’t know something right away, that’s fine; I’ll just ask that you try to call around, if it’s an option for you, and ask a parent or other relative if they happen to know, okay?” Harry and Louis both nodded, looking at each other for confirmation.

“First, Mr. Tomlinson, do you think you could fill a cup up to this line?” She asked, holding a pee cup. Louis blushed, but nodded, and Dr. Pinnock stood. “Great,” she said, smiling, “if you could do that, then, we can have that tested while we go over everything else. Mr. Styles, you can stay right here. I’ll just lead him to the restroom, and then we’ll be right back.”

Harry nodded, patting Louis’ hip comfortingly as the smaller man got up from the bench, and Dr. Pinnock led Louis out of the room. Harry pulled out his phone, checking a few e-mails and flicking through his Instagram feed. He’d been playing Temple Run, trying to beat his high score of two million, when Louis and Dr. Pinnock walked back in.

Harry slid his phone back into his pocket while Louis resumed his perch right in front of Louis, and Dr. Pinnock sighed as she sat down in her chair and grabbed her clipboard.

“Okay, let’s see…dah-dah-dah.” Dr. Pinnock made random noises and clicked her tongue as she flipped to the correct page on her clipboard. “Ah, here we go. Mr. Tomlinson, have you ever happened to notice any achiness or mood swings, maybe even bouts of being a little more sleepy than usual, before you got pregnant? Maybe once a month, or even once every few months?” Louis shook his head no.

“Okay, how about any pregnancy symptoms you _have_ noticed; can you list them for me?”

“Uh, I get queasy, sometimes, but it’s not – it’s not a food thing, I don’t think. And I get really tired out of nowhere, and sometimes it goes away but sometimes it doesn’t until I pass out for a solid six hours at least. Uh, been a little more moody, like, anxious, but not _bad_ ; honestly, that might literally be the knowledge that I am pregnant.” He laughed, but behind him, Harry frowned. He hadn’t noticed the anxiety, and vowed to pay more attention.

“Uh, I’ve been – having more sexual, uh, _urges_ , but that’s, uhm. Kind of, like, we just recently started seeing each other, so.” The back of Louis’ neck was red, but Dr. Pinnock just wrote it down and nodded, looking up at him and smiling encouragingly. Louis squeezed Harry’s hand, suddenly, when he said, “And my, uhm, nipples are – they’re really, really sensitive. Oh, and just the past few days, I’ve been peeing _all the time_. I…think that’s it, right?” Louis asked Harry, and Harry thought a minute before nodding, pretty sure Louis had gotten it all.

“Great,” Dr. Pinnock said, nodding as she made a few marks. “Alright, Mr. Tomlinson, here’s the awkward question, but I promise you won’t have any more like this: have you had or _do_ you have any preexisting, reoccurring, or developing anal conditions? Any STIs, anal cavity problems, fecal seepage, constipation or diarrhea, pain, itching, or discomfort during or after coitus…any of these things sound familiar to you?”

Louis looked _humiliated_ , and Harry felt so bad for him. He kissed Louis’ shoulder and murmured, “Do you want me to step outside for this?” But Louis shook his head and leaned back into his embrace. He was _shaking_ , he was so embarrassed, but Harry couldn’t answer for him, so he just wrapped his arms around Louis’ stomach and comforted him while Dr. Pinnock looked on apologetically.

“Listen, Mr. Tomlinson,” she said, a little awkwardly, “this is my job. I’ve listened to some _very_ awkward things, been a part of some incredibly abnormal conversations and seen some extremely atypical things happen in my offices. As your obstetrician, I need you to trust that I am not going to judge you, react unprofessionally, or relate anything you may say to anyone else, as long as it is not a medical emergency or a situation of abuse. If you feel uncomfortable telling me these things, you can ask for another doctor, but I assure you, everyone will ask these questions. If you’d prefer Mr. Styles step out for a moment, I can have that arranged, but for the sake of your health and your child’s health, these are medical stipulations I need to be aware of.”

Louis bit his lip, looking back at Harry, who rubbed his thumb over Louis’ tummy. “Go ahead, babe,” he murmured, low enough that Louis may not have even heard, but Louis scrunched his face up, skin aflame, and replied.

“I’m – no, I’m not, uhm. There’s, like – I may need to up my fiber, uhm. But I’m – I’m okay.”

Harry had sympathy rolling off his shoulders; having the poop talk for the first time was rarely a comfortable situation, but certainly not with a stranger there, too.

Dr. Pinnock didn’t comment on any of it, other than writing his answer down and nodding. “Thank you,” she said, and let the entire subject drop. “Have you ever been or suspected you have been pregnant before?” She asked.

“No,” Louis said, “I’ve always been on birth control – I just – I had just switched, a little while before I started sleeping with Harry. I didn’t – nobody ever told me switching could, like, cause a lapse time, or whatever, where it isn’t effective anymore, so I didn’t…know. I looked it up, once I found out. Then again, I started birth control almost ten years ago, so…”

Dr. Pinnock grimaced. “Well, that’s certainly true, but apparently, whoever prescribed your birth control failed to tell you that it doesn’t often exceed six to eight years in consistency. The longer you use it, especially as a male, the less it will actually work. You probably could have gotten pregnant any time within the last three years, really; I assume you always used condoms?”

Louis nodded.

“Okay, moving on,” Dr. Pinnock said, clicking her tongue again. “Now, this is for general health, so, Dad, I’m gonna need you to answer these, as well,” she said, addressing Harry, who nodded. “Any chronic illnesses or conditions you’ve had at any time in your life, and medications used to treat them?”

“None that I can think of,” Louis said thoughtfully.

“I had chronic ear infections as a kid,” Harry said. “Uhm, I had tubes put in when I was three, but they put me on the pretty standard amoxicillin and kids’ Motrin combination. Other than that…I get bronchitis every year, usually around January or February, but they just give me a soother. I have asthma, but it rarely acts up; when it does, it’s in the spring. I get strep throat about once a year, as well, usually comes right after the bronchitis. They do cephalexin for that. …I think that’s it.”

“Just a genetic _dream_ pool, aren’t you?” Louis asked, tension leaving him a little when he had something to harmlessly tease Harry about. Harry stuck his tongue out, ignoring the doctor for just that moment.

“Alright, thank you, Mr. Styles. Any drug allergies, either of you?” Both shook their heads no, watching each other’s reactions. Dr. Pinnock’s voice was a little softer when she asked, “How about psychiatric conditions? Mental disorders and medication for them?”

Harry bit his lip, this time, waiting for Louis.

“Does A.D.H.D. count?” Louis asked. “I had that as a child, and then, like, weirdly enough, anxiety as a teenager. Uhm, I never got on anything for the A.D.H.D.; they said I’d grow out of it. And for anxiety, I had…god, what was it called? Amit…amitrip-something.”

“Amitriptyline?” Dr. Pinnock asked, and Louis snapped and pointed at her.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was on it for three years, and they weaned me off it.”

Dr. Pinnock nodded, writing it down, and then lifted her head. “Mr. Styles?” She asked, and Louis turned around.

Harry looked Louis in the eyes for a second, and then focused on the door to the office, not looking at either of them. “Uh, vistaril, buspar, and wellbutrin for anxiety; wellbutrin was also for MDD. Before that, I was on Prozac for depression, but, you know, obviously, they…with the MDD.” Harry screwed his eyes shut. “Temazepam and flurazepam for insomnia; Omega-3 tablets for a little bit of everything.”

It was silent in the room, save for Dr. Pinnock’s scratching pen as she wrote furiously to keep up with him, and Harry wanted to cry, his eyes burning like little needles were pricking his waterline.

“Any past surgeries or serious hospitalizations?” Dr. Pinnock asked, and nobody said anything. “Mr. Tomlinson? Any past surgeries or serious hospitalizations?”

“Uh, I got dehydrated once; they put me on IVs for seven hours,” Louis said, sounding distracted.

“And, Mr. Styles?”

Harry cleared his throat, trying to ward off the shame of his past for the future of his baby. “Uhm, heart palpitations; it was an asthma-slash-anxiety attack gone wrong; I was fine after an hour.”

“Okay, how about smoking; do either of you smoke?”

“ _No_ ,” Louis said immediately. Harry felt Louis turn around to stare at him again, but he ignored him.

“No,” Harry echoed.

“Consume alcohol?”

“Casually, but not anymore,” Louis said.

“How much is ‘casually’?” Dr. Pinnock asked.

“ _Maybe_ three ounces of schnapps and Kahlua, probably two beers a week.”

“Mr. Styles?”

“Same, casually. Uh, probably a beer a day, two or three on a Friday, but now that Lou’s pregnant, it won’t be in the house, so it’ll drop to one or two beers a week.”

“Are you drinking while on medication?” Dr. Pinnock asked, and Harry shook his head.

“God, no, I’m – I’m not on those anymore; I’ve been off meds for…well, about a year and a half, now,” Harry said, remember having an errant thought while sitting in his medical advisor’s office that he could fully celebrate his 21st birthday with Gemma, Zayn, and Niall.

Dr. Pinnock nodded approvingly, and Harry flinched when Louis lifted Harry’s hand to kiss the back of it, but he appreciated it, nonetheless. At least Louis didn’t hate him for being such an overly-medicated freak and not telling him.

“Any recreational drug use? I can’t report you; so please, be honest,” she said wryly, making Louis laugh, so Harry forced a chuckle.

“I smoked pot a few times in college,” Louis answered. “With Johnny Hopkins,” he added quietly, and Harry snickered while Louis grinned, satisfied for breaking the tension a little.

“Marijuana?”

“Yeah.”

“And, Mr. Styles?”

Harry really fucking hated himself. “Uh, I smoked pot once, took ecstasy a few times when I was a freshman in high school, and had an awful night on Adderall at a party that year, too.”

Louis was gaping at him; Harry could tell.

“Anything since?” Dr. Pinnock asked, ever professional.

“No.”

“Not even marijuana?”

“ _No_.” Harry bit his lip; he hadn’t meant to snap. “Sorry, Dr. Pinnock,” he apologized sincerely.

If anything, the apology seemed to be what took her by surprise, but she smiled warmly and nodded. “That’s fine, Mr. Styles. I assure you; I’ve had much, much worse.”

After a moment, Dr. Pinnock nodded to herself. “Alright, Mr. Styles, if you could step out of the room for just a few moments, and then I’ll have you trade. I need to ask Louis a few questions, and then I’ll do the same with you. You can both come back in afterwards, okay?”

Harry nodded and woodenly leaned to the side, sliding his leg over the bench awkwardly. Just before he left the room, though, Louis grabbed his hand, making Harry chance a look at him. Louis smiled encouragingly, though his eyes were determined in a way that clearly said, _we’re going to talk later_. He puckered his lips, so Harry leaned down for a kiss, feeling like a load had been lifted from his shoulders. When he turned around to leave again, Dr. Pinnock looked like she might have been hiding a smile.

Harry leaned against the other wall in the hallway, not wanting it to look like he was listening in, and it wasn’t even a full minute before Louis was coming out, looking a little concerned. Harry frowned, not wanting Louis to worry, but Louis just kissed Harry’s hand and watched as Dr. Pinnock stood by the door, holding it open for Harry.

Harry settled in his seat while Dr. Pinnock closed the door and sat with her clipboard, her voice soft and calming when she explained, “I have to separate you two because of legal issues; it’s nothing either of you have done, so please, relax.” Harry laughed a little awkwardly, but made a show of breathing in deeply.

“Mr. Styles, have you ever been a victim of physical, emotional, mental, or social abuse, or emotional and/or verbal manipulation?”

Harry’s breath caught. “Uhm, I – yes,” he answered, sighing.

“Could you list what types for me, please?” Dr. Pinnock asked.

Harry huffed, more frustrated with the situation than with her; she was only doing her job. “All of them,” he said. “When I was younger.”

“Can you list the abusers?” She asked, and Harry tensed. No, he couldn’t. “Not by name, if you don’t want to,” she spoke slowly. “Maybe, ‘parent’, ‘sibling’, ‘extended relative’…?”

Harry hesitated again. “…Parent, for some of it. Peers, for a little bit of everything. Uhm…past boyfriend, mainly.”

Dr. Pinnock wrote as he spoke, and she looked at him unflinchingly in the eye. “Would you say that this abuse did, does, or _could_ affect your emotional stability?”

“It used to,” Harry admitted.

“But not now?” Dr. Pinnock asked, and for once, Harry could smile a little bit as he shook his head.

“No,” he said happily. “Not now.”

Dr. Pinnock wrote some more before asking, “Mr. Styles, do you think Mr. Tomlinson could have ever endured any of these abuses?”

Just the thought made Harry’s hands curl into fists on his thighs. “Uhm, maybe emotional, like, probably as a kid, if he had A.D.H.D. Maybe, like, a little bit of social, in his teens, with anxiety? I don’t know, to be honest.”

“And, Mr. Styles, have you discussed your history of abuse with Mr. Tomlinson?”

“Uh…no,” he admitted, and swallowed when Dr. Pinnock crossed something on her board. “Not yet. But, uh. I have a feeling he might want to have a chat when we get home,” he said weakly, trying to ease some tension.

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Styles. Would you like to take a moment before I let Mr. Tomlinson in?”

“No,” he said instantly, and Dr. Pinnock smiled before she reached to open the door.

“You can come in, now, Mr. Tomlinson,” she smiled, but Louis was frowning, looking worried sick when he walked immediately to Harry.

“That took so long; are you okay?” He asked, cupping Harry’s face in both hands.

Harry smiled and covered both of Louis’ hands with his own, wrapping his hands gently around Louis’ wrists, like he just needed to touch him. “I’m fine,” he promised, smiling. “We’ll talk about it at home, yeah?”

Louis nodded, a little reluctantly, but he leaned in for a quick kiss on Harry’s lips before he sat down, ready to answer more questions.

Dr. Pinnock asked questions about any conditions their families have had, like heart disease or cancer. Harry’s dad’s side had a few heart conditions and diabetes, and Louis’ side had cancer in a few members, as well as obesity. Neither of them had developmental delays as children, other than Harry, for his hearing issues, and neither of them were born with any structural birth defects. Apart from Louis’ chromosomal variation, neither had any genetic conditions, and Harry was relaxing a lot more, as was Louis, until Dr. Pinnock asked about screening.

“You can do a test screening to see if your child could have Down’s Syndrome, any other chromosomal defect, or most serious conditions” she said, looking at her clipboard. “Would you like information on it?”

Harry emphatically said, “Yes,” while Louis very much said, “No.”

They both paused, looking at each other incredulously. “Why not?” Harry asked.

“Are you going to love this baby any less if they have Down’s, or cancer, or something?” Louis demanded, already turning pink in anger.

Harry felt like he’d been slapped in the face. “Of _course_ , not, Louis, but don’t you want to know if there’s something we should be doing in preparation? A child with Down’s Syndrome is going to need things that any other child won’t!”

“So?”

“ _So_ , wouldn’t you want to have things _ready_ for our child so they don’t struggle until we get the time or money to buy them _after_ they’re born with something? What if they have cancer? We could be making appointments in advance with oncologists, or something!”

“Harry, those screenings are _not_ one hundred percent accurate,” Louis said obstinately.

“But they _do_ have accuracy within them!” Harry insisted, while Dr. Pinnock watched on silently.

“So, what use is there to buy loads of shit for a baby with special needs because a screening test at _one month pregnant_ tells us our baby _might_ need it? If they do end up needing it, great, but if they don’t? We’ve got a shitload of preparations for a different child than the one we’re having!”

“You don’t think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” Harry asked, and Louis shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “I’ll consider it later on, but I’ve got about eight more months to grow this child, so forgive me if I want to sit on it a little bit longer, wait until our kid’s got an actual, I don’t know, _face_ before we start diagnosing them.”

Harry sighed, but bit his lip. “Can’t we at least get the _information_ about it? I’m not saying sign us up immediately, Louis, but we can at least _look into it_ , for our kid.”

Louis took a deep breath and straightened out, having turned nearly sideways on the bench to argue, and nodded. Dr. Pinnock leaned over with a few brochures of information, which Harry slid into his back pocket, careful not to crumple them.

“So, that’s the main part of what’s called the nuchal translucency screening, but you’ll read all that information, there. If you have any questions, let me know, but it has a deadline. You have other tests and screenings, but I’m not going to overwhelm you with too much information right now. You also may want to get a carrier screening, and even though you both have very strong opinions about screening, I _do_ strongly suggest you take part in this screening, because the carrier test screens for much more serious conditions. You’ve got cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease, thalassemia, Tay-Sachs disease…you name it. Very strong stuff in that one, and once you get it done, you can be directed straight to our guidance counselor or one of your choice, take a few different tests if the results don’t come out crystal-clear or all clean, and decide options from there. I have brochures for that one…”

Harry stretched out his arm to receive them, though it seemed Louis _did_ want to take those ones, since the conditions were so much more detrimental.

“You’ll need to get that screening done as soon as possible, but you’ve got a few more weeks before you’re in the prime time for any other screenings, so I’ll just give you guys _this_ informational packet,” she said, brandishing a few pages of fine print stapled together, “about other screenings. You’ll have to come back in here before you’re even ready for the earliest ones, aside from the nuchal screening and carrier screening. And, of course, if you want more information before your next appointment, you can go on our site.” With that, she brandished a card to Harry. “Any questions?” She asked, looking at both of them. Neither said a word.

“Great!” She said, clapping softly and standing up. “Now, we’ve already got the urinalysis, but Louis, I’m afraid we’re not done. I’m going to give you a general physical – Perrie actually helped with quite a bit of that – give you a smear for ascervical cancer –”

“What’s that?” Louis interrupted.

“It’s the male equivalent to cervical cancer,” Dr. Pinnock explained. “It can have very serious affects, so I need to check for it. It’ll be uncomfortable and crampy, but it won’t actually _hurt_ too bad. Women are supposed to get a Pap smear every two to three years, once they turn twenty-one. I’m also going to do a few swabs for chlamydia and gonorrhea, and we’re gonna take a few samples of blood, okay? Mr. Styles, if you want to step outside –”

Louis grabbed Harry’s hand immediately; irritated as he may be with Harry, he clearly didn’t want to be alone, right then. Harry kissed the back of Louis’ head and asked, “Is it okay if I stay?”

“Sure,” Dr. Pinnock said, grinning as though she knew just how uncomfortable the next forty-five minutes would be.

\---

On the drive home, Harry and Louis were quiet, partially because Louis was embarrassed for having cried during the smear test and nearly fainting when they’d taken so much blood from him, and partially because Harry was _terrified_ Louis would bring up his past.

He waited until they’d gotten back to Harry’s, though. Harry helped Louis up the stairs and into his apartment, and Harry tucked Louis into bed, since he’d been feeling nauseous _and_ a little tired from losing the blood. Just when Harry turned the light off and moved to leave the room, though, Louis asked, “What the hell happened when you were a kid?”

It wasn’t judging or accusatory, or even incredulous; it was quiet and concerned, curious and a little sad for Harry. It still made Harry’s breath hitch.

Reluctantly, Harry turned back towards the bed, and sat down on the foot of it. He grabbed the foot peeking out from Louis’ blanket and started massaging it absent-mindedly. “I’m only telling this story once,” he started off grouchily, “and I don’t care if you fall asleep. I’m not repeating anything. Are you sure you want to know right now?”

Louis looked like he could fall asleep if Harry shut up for two minutes; he still nodded determinedly.

Harry let go of Louis’ foot and crawled up in bed next to Louis, laying on top of the blanket and pulling them awkwardly away from Louis with his weight, so he scooted a little and maneuvered it around until they were both comfortable. He stared up at the ceiling, knowing Louis was watching him but unable to look him in the eye. He took a shaky breath.

“My mom and my dad divorced when I was a kid; I was…effeminate, basically. Really girly, very zen, extremely sensitive and just, like, really fucking weird. Like, quirky and eccentric. Stole Gemma’s stuffed animals to have tea parties, played with her dolls, cried _hysterically_ when I accidentally stepped on a grasshopper one day, all of that. Just a weird kid. So, my dad didn’t like it, slapped me around a few times too many, and my mom intervened, divorced him. Once Mom found out my dad was hitting me and, like, saying stuff, though, she put me in therapy, therapist suggested meds, they stuffed me like a fucking pharmacy, thinking it’d help, because only a kid with serious anxiety and depression could endure that without speaking out or fighting back. But really, I was just unaware that dads didn’t _do_ that. Some meds worked, some didn’t, you know. Especially as a kid, that stuff really fucks with you.

“…By the time the divorce was finalized, word had gotten around, and all my friends knew what had happened, why my dad and mom were divorcing: I was a fairy princess. I was…eleven, probably, by the time my dad was completely gone from our lives, and, well. You know eleven-year-old boys. If you don’t fit in, you’re wrong and weird…and a target.

“It never occurred to me that I could change, stop acting that way, even though it literally drove my own dad away. My mom loved me, and Gemma was my big sister no matter what, so… There was a boy in the grade above us, though, and when I was in seventh grade, he stood up for me a few times. Nobody messed with him, like, ‘cause he was kind of different, himself, but there was a rumor that he’d sent a high school kid to the hospital after he’d grabbed his sister’s tit, or something. All his friends were the _real_ bad crowd, though, the kind even bullies stay away from. So, Zayn and me –”

“ _Zayn_?” Louis interrupted. “Your friend Zayn?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Anyway, so we were friends, right, but the next year, he went to high school and I was still in middle school. I started hanging out with all the other kids Zayn had gotten mixed up with, somehow, and within a few months, I was…really different. It was dumb, like, I was – what, fuckin’ twelve, thirteen? Twelve, I guess – and already drinking, doing stupid shit like jumping off buildings into pools, vandalism, stuff like that. Uhm, and obviously, Zayn wasn’t around much to check on me and keep me in line, so. He, you know, didn’t, and I started dressing like them, all the black and stuff, stopped growing my hair out, because I wanted to be the kind of person who blended in and didn’t get any more attention. Those kids probably would have had my back, even if I’d stopped drawing attention, but I didn’t trust them, so I changed a lot.

“But then, the summer before I went to high school, my group got invited to this part by high schoolers, and there was – this guy, basically, his name was Max George, right. And I thought he was _so_ hot, like. Really hot. The night I met him, he told me I was nice and typical-looking, really plain, and he kind of – I mean, I was _just barely_ thirteen, so, you know, horny but clueless as shit. Well, he got just a little bit of hard liquor in me and got me drunk enough that I didn’t really have enough nerves to use as an excuse to say no, but not so much that I _couldn’t have_ said no, pretty much. Before I’d even had my first kiss, I’d been fucked. Afterwards, though, he kissed me, and he made _plain and typical_ sound like the best fucking compliment ever. So, all of freshman year, we dated, and I was crazy about him – less in the way of love, obviously, and more in a sort of hero-worship complex. Zayn _hated_ Max. Drove me in-fucking-sane.

“But, you know, Max sort of – passed me around, liked to show me off, and he always told me he liked the way I was plain, because it was easy for them to imagine someone else when they fucked with me. He was into BDSM, Max – I guess I didn’t ever say he was a senior, when we met; his last year was my first. But, yeah, BDSM, even though he didn’t know what he was doing. I dropped a lot – well. I wasn’t very happy, but I thought Max was the only person who could _make_ me happy, until basically, Zayn got tired of taking backseat to everything and beat the shit out Max. Zayn got hurt pretty bad, even though Max was worse, but I was so horrified that I could love someone who would hurt my best friend, the _only_ person who ever stood up for me…and then it kind of started clicking, like, how Max treated me all the time. And, after about…two months, maybe, I was disgusted with myself.”

Harry’s eyes burned, tears prickling, and Louis cuddled closer to him. “My mom couldn’t look me in the eye anymore; Gemma had tried so many times to get through to me, but she didn’t _really_ know what was going on, because she was at a different high school than me, an honors one. Mom had started dating Robin, but Robin was just trying to get to know me and Gemma, and I was gone too much for him to, so it wasn’t as if he knew what was normal for me. Uhm, but Zayn – you know. Zayn knew.

“And, like, I sort of…dropped down to suicidal kind of…thoughts, sometimes. Not often, but enough that they were _there_ , you know, whenever I was lonely or upset. So Zayn told my mom once I mentioned it in passing, and I was _so_ pissed – seriously, so fucking pissed off at him. But, uh. Mom got me into seriously intensive therapy for months, back on my meds, but she – they sorted them out. Uh, diagnosed me with MDD –”

“What’s that?” Louis interrupted.

Harry hesitated, but in the end, he explained. “Manic-depressive disorder. It’s – kind of, like…bipolar, a little bit. Uh. With insomnia and severe anxiety. Abandonment issues, social anxiety, but _really_ heavy masking. I learned in therapy how to distance myself, and it got a lot easier. And, you know, once I was, like, a lot better – maybe nearly sixteen, or something – I kind of woke up one day and was like, ‘you know? Fuck it.’ Like, I was tired of being plain, and typical.

“So, out came the makeup. Out came the piercings. I did most of them myself, but I let a lot of them close up once I got into piercing and realized what a bad job I’d done, after my apprenticeship with Zayn’s uncle. But, yeah. Lots of piercings, makeup, kept the black clothes, mostly because I didn’t have any money but also because I just _didn’t like_ the bright stuff anymore. And it – nobody could make me feel bad anymore, after that, because, like – I mean, I know _now_ that I’m, like, a mildly attractive person, like I’m aware of it by now, but back then, it was like… ‘Well, even if I’m not attractive, at least I’m not typical’. I didn’t want to blend in, or be normal, because normal people were the ones who did awful things, beat me up, and then slept with me, and insulted me, and then touched me like I was theirs. Just – I haven’t wanted to be normal. And even now, like, it’s frustrating: I’m a grown man, pretty damn self-actualized, but my _best friend in the world_ hasn’t seen me without makeup on since I started wearing it eight years ago.”

Harry let a few sobs loose, and then bit the back of his wrist to stop it.

“No, stop that,” Louis said, pulling Harry’s hand away gently. He kissed Harry’s hand, where teeth marks were imprinted. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, kindly but firm, as he ran a finger over the indentions.

“You were raped,” Louis concluded. “Repeatedly. At fourteen years old, by your boyfriend and his friends. _After_ being beat and abandoned by your father.”

Harry let out a humorless laugh. “The thing is, they didn’t – I _always_ asked for it. Begged them to let me blow them, or fuck me, or, you know, whatever. I always asked; like, at the time, I _did_ want it, because I was _finally_ getting nice attention. Nobody was beating me up much, nobody _really_ hurt me, like, physically. It was great…at the time.”

“Harry, that’s still – there’s still a _difference_ ,” Louis said, and Harry nodded.

“I know,” Harry said calmly.

Louis was quiet for a moment – probably trying to think of what he could possibly say – until he settled on, “So…that’s why the whole safe word thing is such a big deal to you, huh?”

Harry smiled wanly; he didn’t need to answer that. Instead, he said, “Louis, babe. Listen to me. I’m alright, now. I’m okay. I was in _very_ intensive therapy, for a very long time, and I am looking you in the eyes and telling you that I am okay. Trust me; I went through the whole stages, all the steps. I was a _mess_ , but now I’m okay. My past is another part of me, just like wearing makeup is and singing and being gay. It’s part of my book. Just a sad chapter.”

Louis traced Harry’s tattoos nonetheless, and asked, “Can I ask a question, or is it too soon?”

“Just did,” Harry said, trying to make the situation more bearable with humor. It didn’t work. Louis didn’t laugh; neither did Harry. “Go ahead,” he sighed.

“How is it that you can…have so much sex, after that? I mean, like. Most people…don’t…?”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, wondering how to explain it. finally, Harry said, “The thing is, I liked it, to some extent. Oh, yeah,” he said, when Louis looked incredulous. “All kinds of boys wanted to fuck _me_. Me, whose dad left his family because he had a son so wrong; but I had all those boys as evidence that I _was_ worth something, and I had a boyfriend who loved me and made it sound like _plain_ was the best thing to be, and I was that. He was _good_ , Louis. He was really good at manipulating; I see that now. But at the time, I just thought he loved me because I was normal, and not a freak like my dad thought I was.

“So, I’m not going to lie and pretend like the entire year and some that we dated was awful. A lot of it genuinely was nice. It wasn’t like he passed me around every weekend; it happened a handful of times, and he was always so nice to me, after. And, you know. It wasn’t like the sex _hurt_ , too often. It wasn’t – it never felt like, you know, rape. Like, the violent kind you hear about on the news, or whatever. It was _sex_ , and it wasn’t nearly as good as I know it can be _now_ , but I was a teenager, and I thought it was good because I was good enough to make people come, and most of the time, I came, too.

“Now, though, sex isn’t like that. After I got out of that…stuff, Zayn introduced me to the friends he’d made, like, in the meantime. I never became friends with them, really, except Niall, but I spent time with them because Zayn did, and they watched a lot of movies and paired off in front of me and a few of them offered sex a few times. I finally accepted, with one guy, James, and we dated for…a while, I don’t really remember how long. I never loved him – not by a long shot – but he was patient with me and I think, now, that he loved me, back then, because he stuck around for the _months_ it took to realize I’m not always a mistrustful cock, and I let him kiss me one day because I was sad, but he was so nice and gentle about it, not at all like Max had been, and then, you know, we started kissing a lot more often, became real boyfriends, I guess, and James was just the sweetest. _He_ should have been my first boyfriend,” Harry added on an afterthought. “Anyway, blah, blah, blah, we had sex, and I _was_ nervous, that time, but he was great, and it was incredible, and after that, he started noticing things about me, like little ticks and stuff, and asked me about Domming, and kink, and stuff, and I was so overwhelmed, but he figured it out. He was sort of like, my master, in a way. A teacher, I mean. Taught me all of it, how to be a good sub, but I didn’t like it much at the time, so he started showing me how to Dom, and it was great, and I fell in love with having sex. Now, it’s – it’s equally for two people’s pleasure; not one more than the other. I understand it, now, and I _love_ sex, now.”

“…Was it scary?” Louis asked.

“What, learning how to play?” Harry asked, shrugging but smiling when Louis nodded. “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “But it was worth it, I think, for me to finally gain something as massive as full-on enjoyment in sex.”

“And you don’t like to sub much?” Louis asked.

“It’s not what I prefer to do, anymore, but not because it freaks me out. I don’t mind it. It’s just not as intense for me. But sometimes it’s nice to be really dirty and know you want me anyways, whereas when I Dom, you want me because I give you what you didn’t know you wanted.”

Louis nodded thoughtfully, and traced the birds on Harry’s chest. “And…that’s why you like playing, and why – you got upset when I thought it was embarrassing, or weird. Because it gives you control, and I didn’t get that.”

Harry sniffed, feeling like he’d been ripped open. He’d never told anyone this way. Sure, he’d told his therapist, who – because he was a minor – had been legally obligated to tell Harry’s mom. Sure, Zayn knew, because he figured it out, smart as he was. Sure, Gemma knew, because Harry had written most of it down and purposefully left the notebook in her room, Harry having wanted her to know but too afraid to tell her himself.

But he’d never explicitly listed years of his life out, this way, in words as he lay next to a person, and talked. He’d never done it, and he wasn’t sure how he was feeling, other than _raw_.

Louis shifted, pushing and pulling at various areas of Harry’s body until he relaxed, and Harry realized, with a start, that Louis was cradling him. Louis had sat up against the headboard, propped up by a few pillows, and stretched his legs out as far as he could, pulling Harry to lean heavily against his side. Harry’s head was next to Louis’ neck, and Louis’ arms were around his shoulders, keeping him close. His socked feet rested between Louis’ bare ones.

“Cry, Harry,” Louis said, soothing his hand through Harry’s curls. “Please, cry. All of it. I don’t care how long it takes. Cry with me.”

Harry looked up, then, and saw that Louis _was_ crying, his eyes bright blue but bloodshot, nose red and cheeks wet.

So, Harry cried, for the first time since he found out Zayn had told Harry’s mom about his suicidal thoughts, and Louis held him through it, rubbing his back, shoulders, arms, drawing him closer and closer, and pressing kisses into his hair. Harry cried until he was too exhausted to think, and Louis flipped the blanket over Harry’s body, baring his own to the tiny bit of chill still lingering in the apartment.

Just as Harry drifted off, though, he could have sworn he’d heard Louis whisper in his ear.

“I won’t treat you like you’re typical, Harry.”

\---

The next day, Harry was on his last tattoo before he was set to take his lunch break. When he finished up the young man’s first tattoo, Harry gave him the care instructions and sent him on his way, receiving a barely-there tip and an inflated hatred for tattoo virgins.

All morning, Harry had been worried if telling Louis the truth about…well, everything…was a mistake. He didn’t want Louis to pity him, or treat him differently, and he definitely didn’t want the sex to change. He’d been worrying about Louis all morning long, though, and was getting sick of it; he needed a distraction.

Harry took his lunch break with Zayn every day, even if (as Louis was wont to bring in food on Saturdays) he had already eaten. It was only Thursday, though, so Harry walked out his room to see if Zayn was busy or not, and he nearly tripped and hit his head on the counter when he saw what was happening.

Because there, in front of the counter, was his boyfriend, Louis, and his best friend, Zayn, embracing each other as if they’d met more than ten times, between gigs and Louis’ visits to the shop. Zayn had a hand braced on the back of Louis’ head, the other fisting Louis’ jacket while Louis had both arms around Zayn’s waist, arms curving up so his hands were holding onto Zayn’s shoulders.

“Uh.”

The boys broke apart upon hearing Harry’s voice, and Harry instantly noticed that Louis’ eyes were a little bloodshot. “What happened,” he asked flatly, angry that someone had made Louis cry.

“No, no, it’s fine, Harry,” Louis said, coming up to Harry. “I was just – you know…mood swings, and stuff, and Zayn asked about the baby, and it sort of just set me off! I’m fine, I promise.” He stood on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck, giving him a kiss to the lips before tucking his head against Harry’s shoulder.

“Want to come to lunch with us?” Harry asked him, looking over at Zayn and wondering belatedly if Zayn would be okay with it.

“No, go on,” Zayn said before Louis could even respond.

“What?” Harry asked. “You always come with me!”

“You need to talk to your boy,” Zayn said mysteriously, and, well.

Zayn disappeared, then, and Louis grinned at him before he took Harry’s hand. “Take me wherever you usually go,” Louis said. “It’s about time you take me on a date, I think,” he added, a little shyly.

“Hey, I took you on a date the first night we met,” Harry said, hopeful that this was Louis’ way of breezing over the subject entirely. “Remember? Even kissed you and sent you on your way.”

Louis smiled, and Harry pulled him out the door of the parlor and down the street, headed towards the cheap place he and Zayn always went. “Take me on a second date, then, why won’t you?” Louis asked, his voice mock-outraged. “You’ve already gone and ruined my model-like figure; you could at least buy me a sandwich!”

“I bought you lunch after our appointment yesterday,” Harry pointed out. “Mostly to keep you from throwing up in my car after they took all that blood, but…”

Louis squawked and then punched Harry in the shoulder, laughing when Harry stumbled a step or two to the side.

“Better watch it,” Harry said with no heat. “Won’t tell you what to order when we get there, and you’ll end up getting something terrible.”

Louis scoffed, though he was smiling and his eyes were dancing. “I think I have good enough judgment to know what _food_ to order in a dingy café,” he said, pushing his nose up in the air.

Harry felt lighter than he had all day, and when Louis sat down opposite him in a place Harry went nearly every day, he grinned.

“Hey, Harry,” said a slightly-off voice from his right, and Harry looked away to see Jade, his and Zayn’s usual waitress, looking confused. “Someone’s in a chipper mood today,” she said, though she smiled when she noticed Louis looking between her and Harry, trying to read the situation. Before Harry could answer her, she turned more towards Louis. “Hi, I’m Jade; I’ll be your waitress today,” she said to him, and Louis only nodded. “Can I start you off with anything to drink? Harry? Usual?”

“Yeah,” he said, and Jade nodded, writing it down.

“And for you, sir?” She asked, and Louis tore his eyes away from Harry to address her.

“Uh, sweet tea, please,” he said, and she nodded, passing out menus to them.

“I’ll get those right out and be back to take your order in a minute, okay?” With that, she walked off, and Louis looked at Harry with wide eyes.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Who the hell is that?” He asked, and Harry had to lean back a second.

“I – what?” He floundered, wondering if Louis was actually feeling as hostile as he seemed.

“That was the most _awkward_ encounter I have _ever_ seen,” Louis accused.

“I’m…sorry?” Harry answered uncertainly. “How was it awkward? She’s our waitress. She waited on us. I don’t – what are you talking about?”

Louis looked at him incredulously. “Harry, you didn’t even _look_ at her, even though she was trying to be friendly!”

Harry knew Jade was friendly; she always was. And, usually, he did look at her when he spoke to her; he wasn’t a total dick. “You’re more fun to look at,” he said honestly, and Louis’ face softened and flushed for a second before he seemed to remember something, and the stern face was back on.

“Harry, that was rude,” he scolded. “I’ve never seen you completely ignore someone, like that.”

“Uhm.” Harry wasn’t sure what Louis was talking about. “Lou, I’m always – I mean, I don’t know how you can’t have noticed, but I don’t exactly like _people_. I barely speak to my own drummer.”

“You speak to me,” Louis pointed out.

“You’re my boyfriend,” Harry stated flatly.

“You’re really nice to Zayn,” Louis said, pointing a finger at Harry.

“I’m _really_ not,” Harry said, “but anyway, he’s a best friend.”

“Harry,” Louis said, frustrated, but Harry held up his hands, clueless.

“Louis, I don’t get it,” he said, laughing a little to ease tension. “How many times have I told you that people think I’m an asshole for a really long time, until they just give up? That’s because I have no reason to talk my waitress’ ear off, and I really don’t care how her day is going.”

Louis stared at Harry for a while, until Harry started feeling self-conscious. Finally, he remembered hoping Louis wouldn’t notice the way he didn’t like other people, because even though Louis was a little shy if he wanted more than small talk, he so very obviously liked people.

“You were nice to Dr. Pinnock and Perrie,” Louis said after a while.

“Two people who _literally_ are in charge of the health and well-being of you and our baby,” Harry said, a little sarcastically. “And, really, I wasn’t that nice to them. They asked me questions; I told them answers.”

“You weren’t _rude_ ,” Louis said, sighing, and Harry sighed back.

“Again, they hold your health and our kid’s health in their tiny, little hands,” Harry said, cupping his hands in front of Louis for some reason.

Louis stared at Harry’s hands for a moment, and then looked back up at Harry. “You’re an asshole,” he said bluntly, and Harry grimaced, but nodded.

“A little bit, yeah,” Harry admitted. Louis stayed quiet until Jade came back with their drinks.

“Are you guys ready to order?” She asked, looking between the two men and their closed menus.

“Oh, we haven’t even opened them, Jade; sorry,” Louis said, infusing a little chagrin into his voice.

“That’s fine; I’ll just be back in a little to check, then,” she smiled, glanced at Harry, who forced the corners of his mouth up for a second, and then walked off towards another table.

“Was that so hard?” Louis asked, gesturing a little smugly at the upturn of Harry’s lips.

“It’s weird,” he admitted a little stubbornly, and Louis just sighed.

“That’s what you meant by masking, then,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Last night,” Louis said a little louder. “You said you learned to mask stuff, and that you didn’t trust people, learned how to distance yourself from them, all that. That’s what you meant.”

Harry nodded slowly, making full eye contact with Louis. “And that’s not going to change,” he said seriously, wishing he didn’t have to say it, but knowing Louis deserved to be aware of what he was getting into. “I don’t have a big problem with general, day-to-day trust anymore, but I won’t ever derive joy from being around people I’m not one hundred percent comfortable with. It’s not going to happen.”

Louis watched Harry, listened to him speak, and then sat thoughtfully. “What about our kid?” He asked.

“Louis,” Harry began, and then bit his lip, seeing Jade flouncing around. “At least pick out what you want to eat, before we get into this, okay?” He implored, not wanting another awkward encounter.

Louis let loose a tiny, short little growl, but he opened his menu with a frustrated huff, and Harry scraped his teeth against the back sides of his shark bite rings to keep from smiling at the minor fit he was throwing.

After a few minutes, Louis closed his menu and looked up at Harry with a raised eyebrow, clearly wanting to continue the conversation.

“What are you having?” Harry asked, ignoring the damned eyebrow.

“The BLT club,” Louis said shortly. “Are you going to be an asshole to our baby?”

Harry blinked. Well. That was…blunt. “Louis, the day I found out this kid even existed, you left for a week and I was a mess. Do you _really_ think I don’t already at least _want_ this kid? I’m not saying by _any_ means that I’m going to be a natural parent, because I know nothing about kids, but I’ve always _wanted_ some, like, in my plans for the future, and stuff. It’s been two weeks, that I’ve known it exists. Give me some time, and I’ll show you that I’m going to _love_ this baby. Okay?”

Louis relaxed, then, and smiled, just a little bit. “Okay,” he said simply.

He seemed to be okay with that, and so was Harry, so they sat in companionable silence, watching the people around them for a few minutes.

“What about when you meet my family?” Louis asked out of nowhere, looking genuinely worried. “Harry, they’re – I mean, they mean everything to me, but if you act like that around my sisters, I might skin you alive and I’ll put it all down to insane pregnancy mood swings, I swear I will.”

“I don’t think pregnancy will keep you from being charged with first-degree murder,” Harry said thoughtfully, but upon receiving Louis’ death glare, Harry hastened to add, “Like, I’m not saying I’ll be immediately great – don’t you have, like, fifty sisters? – but I’ll do my best, I mean. I care about you, and they’re definitely going to be involved in the baby’s life, right?” Louis nodded emphatically, and Harry nodded more calmly after him. “Then, I’ll need to get to know them. I’m sure they’ll be fine. It’s not like I _hate_ everyone I don’t know, you know. I’m just…indifferent, I guess, if they have no real relevance to my life. Like, a stranger I bump into at a crosswalk: ‘Oh, sorry’, and they’re gone, and I wouldn’t recognize them if I saw them again a thousand times, because they aren’t significant. Your parents and siblings are my boyfriend’s parents and sisters, and my kid’s grandparents and aunts and uncles. That’s…you know, that’s significant, because that affects the people in my life.”

“Have you decided what you want?” Jade asked, appearing out of nowhere while Louis watched Harry in that strange way of his, like everything he said was a little bit more meaningful than anyone else’s words. It made Harry’s stomach swirl awkwardly, but Louis was already snapped out of it, smiling at Jade.

“Yeah, can I have the BLT club, but on wheat?” Louis asked, and Harry watched as Jade idly nodded, writing it down on her pad. She turned to Harry, but Louis added, “Oh, no tomato; just the BL, then, I guess. And could you have them just do _really_ light mayo? And can I add some Kalamata olives, and green peppers, as well? Uhm, and do you guys have seasoned fries, or just regular?”

Jade was writing rapidly, trying to get everything down, but she answered, “We have seasoned curly fries,” without looking up.

“Great,” Louis said, smiling. “Can I have a side of those, then, too?” Jade nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Harry?” Jade asked, turning to him, and Harry absently reminded himself to make eye contact.

“Just my usual will be fine, please,” he said with a small smile he hadn’t used on a virtual stranger in years.

Jade’s eyebrows hid under her hair, but she grinned back, full force, and nodded. “So, a BLT club on wheat, no tomato, light mayo with Kalamata olives and green peppers and a side of curly fries, and a basket of boneless parmesan chicken fingers?” She looked at both of them to make sure there were no objections, and then smiled. “Be right out for you guys; let me know if you need anything.”

Harry didn’t seek Louis’ approval when Jade walked away, but the way Louis was chewing down on his lip to hide a grin was worth it.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I'm so pissed off this was too long, blegh.)

That night, Louis had needed to go back to his apartment to grab some clothes and a working iron from his apartment, so while he was gone, Harry got out his phone and called Gemma, as per usual for Thursday nights.

Gemma answered on the fourth ring. “ _Hey, shitface_ ,” she said happily.

“Hey, Gems,” he answered, his own grin growing on his face. “How’ve you been?”

As he expected, it opened the floodgates. Harry loved his sister for many things, but her passion for _everything_ was definitely one of his favorites. He used to be so much like her, and even though he wasn’t anymore, and hadn’t been for a long time, she never treated him differently, still loved him just the same, and was _fiercely_ protective and active in advising him and bouncing ideas back and forth with him. And when Harry asked her a question, he always got the God’s honest truth via a usually very long-winded response, like now.

 _Oh, you know_ ,” she said. Harry could picture the dismissive wave she’d have given. “ _Ashton’s being annoying, he’s wearing those_ fucking _fedoras; they’re so stupid. And then he got upset with me when I said so! Him and the boys had a little jam sesh with some guy named Matt; he keeps talking about him like I’m supposed to know who he is. I mean, I’m not saying I don’t_ care _, ‘cause, you know, happy boy, happy home, and all, but…I’ve got no idea why this Matt guy’s a big deal. Instead of explaining it, though, Ash’s always just looking at me like I’ve lost half my IQ, so. I refuse to look him up, just to spite him. Student teaching is _great_ , I’m working with all these little freshmen who think they can spit game. Ashton came and picked me up the other day for lunch, and one of the students saw, so when I came back, he was all, _’Was that your boyfriend, Miss Styles?’ _And I’m pretty sure I broke his heart when I told him yes and that he’s in a band. This week was supposed to be just all observation, but a few kids have special needs and the special ed. teacher’s apparently out of commission right now, so I got stuck doing it, but, to my surprise, I love it. Next week, I’ll be doing lesson plans for all of the class, but Mrs. Hinkle, the lady I’m student teaching for, said I could make additional ones for the special ed. kids. You know, she still has to look over them, but if they’re good enough, I might get to go a little further into exploring that realm, which I wouldn’t really mind. So long as I’m doing something with science teaching, I don’t really care who I’m teaching._ ”

Gemma babbled on for nearly twenty minutes, and Harry put his finger to his lips when he opened the door for Louis upon his return. _Gemma_ , he mouthed to Louis, who smiled and walked into the apartment.

Harry went back to sprawl out on the couch, and after a while, Louis joined him, bringing his laptop and sitting on Harry’s legs while he farted around online and Harry actively participated in the conversation. He startled Louis with a piercing cackle, the one that usually only Gemma could pull from him, and he slapped a hand over his mouth immediately while Gemma laughed and kept telling a story about one of her students.

“I miss you,” Harry eventually said, blushing to himself when he saw Louis grin at his computer. “Why do you have to be so far away?”

“ _Harry, I’m only three hours from you, idiot_ ,” Gemma said, but her tone was a little sad, too, until she asked Harry a random question, and they bounced from subject to subject again.

When they’d talked another hour, and Louis was idly rubbing up and down Harry’s shin, Harry waited until Gemma stopped talking to ask, “Hey, uhm. Do you – have you talked to Mom and Robin, lately?”

Gemma sighed, and Harry pictured her rolling her eyes. “ _Well,_ I _call them every Tuesday, Harry. Why?_ ”

Harry rubbed his nose uncomfortably when he said, “I was wondering if they had, like, a day off some time within the next week or two…or three.”

“ _Well, call them and ask_ ,” Gemma urged, sounding a little excited. “ _You going down to visit_?”

“Uh, I was thinking about it,” Harry said uncomfortably. Louis looked up from his computer, eyebrows raised, but he was smiling widely, even as Gemma tried not to let her excitement bleed through her voice. (She failed.)

After a few more minutes, Harry begged off the phone, Louis getting antsy on his lap.

As soon as Harry hung up and set the phone down, Louis was pushing the laptop onto the coffee table and sprawling out on top of him, peppering his face in kisses.

“You want to go tell your family within a few weeks?” Louis asked, excitedly. “I’m so proud of you, Harry! You’re going to do _great_.”

“You’re still coming with me, right?” Harry asked, heart squeezing in fear that Louis would say no, for a second.

Louis only nodded, though, and Harry beamed.

“When did you want to go?” He asked. “Uhm, I was just – I don’t want to stay the night, or anything. I don’t want an awkward time, if it goes badly; I just want to go visit for a few hours, drop the bomb, try to keep visiting if it goes decently-to-well, and leave with getting home before dark as an excuse. Especially since it’s so much information at once, you know –”

“Harry, I mean it, babe,” Louis interrupted. “If you don’t want to tell them the rest, like, I understand. It’s not like I have some set timeline, or anything, like, as long as they know the basics before I’m having contractions in a hospital gown, I don’t care when you tell them I’m your boyfriend or having your kid.”

“No, I’m sure,” Harry said, stomach fluttering a little, though he _was_ truly sure. “I only want to confess once; anything else just puts unneeded stress, you know?” Louis nodded. “Uhm…can you – do you want to maybe do it this Sunday, if my parents are free?”

“Sure,” Louis said encouragingly, game for anything. “Do you think they will be? I mean, it’s pretty short notice, and all…”

Harry took a deep breath and picked up his phone. “I’ll call and ask,” he said, and thumbed through the M’s in his phone until he landed on _Mom_. He pressed the phone picture next to her name, and Louis grabbed Harry’s free hand when Harry leaned back, closing his eyes.

Harry’s mom answered almost immediately. “ _Harry? Is something wrong? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Where are you, baby?_ ”

Louis, who was leaning on Harry’s chest and close enough to hear, raised his eyebrows at Harry.

“Mom, I’m fine, I’m – I’m laying on my couch, in my apartment, okay? I’m fine; calm down,” Harry said, interrupting her frantic questions with a reluctantly-fond laugh. She always was a worrier.

She took a deep breath, shaky and slow. “ _Jesus, Harry, you can’t do that,_ ” she complained.

Harry snorted. “Mom, all I did was call you,” he said, and Louis giggled quietly into his shirt.

“ _Yeah, yeah, yeah,_ ” she grumbled fondly. “ _It’s not_ my _fault you never call; I’d forgotten what your face looks like until I saw the picture of you on my caller ID!_ ”

“Mom, I know for a _fact_ that my picture in your phone is of me as a four-year-old, holding a tarantula,” he said drily, and Louis scrunched his face up in horror at the thought of holding a spider. But Harry just rolled his eyes at his expression.

“ _Ah, the times when you were still adorable_ ,” she said, and Harry swallowed, throat a little tight. He reminded himself that she hadn’t meant it meanly, was only trying to tease him, but it had stung a little, oversensitive as ever about his mom’s disapproval and lack of understanding about his makeup and tattoos and piercings, and he was reeling through it. Harry’s mom seemed to pick up on it quickly, because she gasped and said, “ _Oh, Harry, baby, I didn’t mean –_ ”

“No, no, Mom, I know,” Harry said, and he smiled a little when Louis kissed his chest over his shirt. “I know, sorry.”

Anne was quiet for a few minutes until she asked, “ _Well, hon, not that I’m complaining, but what has you calling little old me on a Thursday night, hmm? Isn’t that your night for Gemma_?”

“You’re prettier,” Harry said casually, making his mom laugh loudly into the phone. “Don’t worry, I already talked to her,” he added. “I was just, uhm. Actually, I was wondering, if you, you know, were doing anything Sunday.”

Anne was quiet for a moment. “ _This Sunday_?” She asked, sounding strange.

“Yeah,” he said.

“ _Well. We’ve got church until eleven, but after that, we were just gonna stay home and do some housework, or something…_ ” she said a little cautiously. “ _Why, Harry? Is everything okay?_ ”

“For God’s – Mom, will you _please_ stop thinking that I’m anything less than okay? I just, uhm, have some news, and wanted to come visit, is all. See you and Robin, and all that…Mom?”

There was a clattering and a soft swear word, and Anne scrambled to pick up the phone. “ _Harry? Are you still there?_ ” She asked. “ _I just dropped my phone; did you say you wanted to come visit us?_ ”

Harry noticed Louis frowning at him, but when he frowned back, eyebrows raised in question, Louis quickly shook his head and nodded towards the phone, indicating he should get back to the conversation. “Uh, yeah, if that’s okay,” he said. He was just about to say he understood if it was too short of notice, but his mom was already squealing excitedly.

“ _Oh, Harry, I’d_ love _for you to come home! Robin’s going to be so excited; I can’t wait to tell when he gets home!_ ”

Harry forced a laugh, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t been home but for Thanksgivings and Christmases since he moved out a few years ago, despite only being a few hours away. “I, uh, actually – I’m bringing someone with me, if that’s okay. I have someone important I want you to meet.”

Anne was quiet for a moment before she started shrieking, and Harry had to laugh.

“ _Mom_ ,” he said, “it’s probably not what you’re thinking,” he lied, just to avoid an awkward meeting when Louis got out of the car. “But I’m not answering any questions, okay? I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”

“ _Wait, Harry, at least tell me if I need to tidy up the guest room_ ,” she said, devious sneakery in her voice. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Mom, you _do_ know two people can share a bed without it meaning something dirty, right?” He asked, smirking. “I can hear your master-minding from here.”

“ _Well?_ ” She asked, pouting a little, now, and Harry snorted.

“No, Mom, we're actually not gonna stay the night; sorry. I work Saturdays, and we both have to get back to work on Monday."

" _Oh, okay,_ " Anne answered, like she really didn't mind.

"Listen, I’ve got to go, but I’ll be down there Sunday, when you’re out of church. Leave the door unlocked in case we get there early?” Harry asked hopefully.

“ _Of course, darling_ ,” she said, sounding almost emotional.

“I love you,” Harry told her, because he really didn’t do it enough.

“ _I love you, so much, Harry_ ,” she said. “ _See you soon_.”

“See you soon, Mom. Bye.”

Harry tapped the line off and blew out a big gust of air. “This is going to be a disaster,” he said, staring at the ceiling.

Louis kissed his throat. “You can always bow out for now, babe,” he reminded Harry gently. “We’ve got months.”

Harry shook his head, though, sitting up a little to look at Louis better. “No, I meant, like, just going to see her in general,” he admitted.

Louis frowned. “Why do you say that?” He asked, and Harry took a few minutes to think.

“I love my mom,” he said sincerely. “She’s in that little group of people I _really_ care about. She – doesn’t approve, or understand, really, the makeup and body modification stuff, never has…but she has always done what she thought was best for me at the time. She got me away from my dad, she put me in therapy – which I needed, even if I, personally, would never put my child on medication until at least their teen years, unless the condition was _really_ bad and diet or discipline or being active or outside couldn’t change it – and when I got tangled up in all that…shit, basically, she tried so hard to reach me; she just didn’t know how. Especially as she was a single mom, you know, working her ass off to afford Gemma’s honors school, lawyer fees from the split, all that stuff. It was really hard on her, and all my crap made it a little worse. She’s always tried, though, and that makes her one of the people I love most in the world.

“It’s just…difficult. At this point, the tattoos are, obviously, forever. The piercings can come and go, but I like them and I like standing out. And as far as makeup goes, it’s hard for me to feel confident without it; it’s almost like a hybrid of makeup to make me attractive and armor, or something. I know it’s all mental, one hundred percent, but going without makeup…I feel naked, and not in a good way. That’s probably weird –”

“That’s not weird,” Louis interrupted, rubbing at the tattoos peeking above the collar of Harry’s shirt. “It’s _not_ ,” he added when Harry looked away. “It’s just something you need for added confidence. Loads of people wear makeup every day; so what if you’re a guy, right? Isn’t that how you feel about everyone else when they look at you? Like, ‘fuck you; I’ll do what I want and you can deal with it’?”

Harry shrugged, and Louis lifted a finger to sweep a line from Harry’s temple down to his chin, smiling calmly. “That’s what _I_ think when people look at us funny. When we’re out, and stuff. ‘Fuck you, I’ll hold his hand because I want to, and you can look away or you can deal with it.’”

Harry smiled, one of those deep, heavily-sincere smiles. “I always wondered,” he admitted. “Why you aren’t, like, uncomfortable with people seeing us together.”

“Does it bother you?” Louis asked curiously.

“No,” Harry said quickly, not wanting Louis to even entertain that thought. “Not at all; I mean, Zayn’s not into all the mods and stuff, other than tattoos, but his are all covered most of the time.”

Louis nodded. “So, your mom…?” He prompted gently.

“Is great,” Harry filled in, making Louis smile. “We got into a lot of arguments when I was a teen, especially once I started wearing makeup. We got into a really big one a few days before I moved out, and I kind of gave her an ultimatum, sort of like, ‘get over it, or you won’t see me anymore’, and texted once a week until she begged me to come home for Christmas. I almost didn’t, but I hadn’t been able to see Gemma, either, and Robin called me himself and begged me, like, Mom still doesn’t even know he did it.”

“So, was Robin irritated with it?” Louis asked, shifting on top of Harry. “Wait – hold on, I’m really sorry, but I’m seriously about to piss myself.” Louis got up and started hurrying towards the bathroom door, and Harry laughed behind him. “Pause conversation!” Louis called while Harry heard the clinks and rustling of belts and flies being messed with. “I’ll be done in a sec!”

Harry got up and grabbed a beer while Louis peed, deciding he wouldn’t buy anymore once he finished this twelve-pack off. He only had three more, anyway. Louis was sitting on the couch when Harry got back, so Harry sighed comfortably as he plopped back down next to him, and Louis cuddled up, laying next to him with no room between them, since the couch was so small.

“So, Robin,” Louis prompted bossily, making Harry smile a little.

“Robin’s amazing,” Harry said. “If I had to pick a step-dad, I couldn’t have imagined one so good. He’s involved, but not invasive, and he loves me and Gemma and tries to guide us when he feels like he _needs_ to step in, but we’re both lucky he didn’t try that until much, much later, or I’d’ve hated him on the spot. But, you know, he’s the dad he really, _really_ didn’t need to be to me and Gems, and he treats my mom like she’s made of fucking precious treasure. Like, seriously, he’s such an incredible guy. I respect the hell out of him.”

Louis smiled at him. “I’m excited to meet him,” he said, nodding.

“I know, me, too,” Harry said, grinning. “I’m not worried about him not, like, taking it well. He’ll be fine, like I already know he doesn’t mind, as long as I’m safe and happy and not like I was when he first met me. That’s what he cares about. Wait, do you pay any attention to football?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Harry, it’s _April_ ,” he said. “Football’s been over for _months_.”

“I know, but do you watch it?”

Louis hummed. “I don’t watch too often, but, you know. I keep up with it, and I watch it if nothing else is on.”

“What’s your favorite team?” Harry asked.

“I don’t really have one,” Louis said. “I mean, everyone in Delaware was either an Eagles, Steelers, or Cowboys fan; I’m not too fond of any.”

“Well, be a Packers fan on Sunday, and Robin might adopt you, himself,” Harry joked, and Louis grinned, squirming up to kiss Harry.

He bit down on Harry’s lip a little harder than he usually did, and it sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through Harry’s body. Before he could even moan, though, Louis was kissing down his neck.

Louis grabbed Harry’s jaw with a hand and tilted Harry’s face up, gaining more access to Harry’s neck. “Do you like hickeys?” He asked against Harry’s neck.

“None that’ll last ‘til Sunday,” Harry said, after he moaned, and kept his head tilted back so Louis could give them.

“I don’t think I’d want Robin to adopt me,” Louis murmured as he bit down onto Harry’s neck and sucked, licking over the dark red mark when he pulled away. “Sure would be immoral to do the things I want you to do to me if we were brothers.”

Harry groaned again, and wrapped his arms tighter around Louis’ tiny waist, hands sliding to grab hold of Louis’ ass. Louis automatically grinded forward, rutting their hips together while their cocks started to harden up a little bit.

“What do you want tonight?” Harry asked. “Wanna play, or fuck?”

“Hmmm,” Louis hummed, and licked up Harry’s neck before he licked around the stud in Harry’s earlobe. “Don’t care,” he said, “just want you to take care of me.”

Harry sat up suddenly, pushing Louis back. Louis made a confused sound, but Harry pulled Louis’ legs to wrap around his waist, wrapping his own arms around Louis’, and hefted him up, hurrying to the bedroom. He deposited Louis down on the bed, smiling when Louis immediately started shedding clothes, and after ridding himself of his own, Harry crawled up the bed, grabbing Louis’ wrists and pushing them roughly up over his head, pressing them tightly against the mattress.

Harry kissed Louis roughly, and Louis moaned and pushed his hips up against Harry’s, looking for friction. “That’s right, babe, get yourself off,” Harry said, and Louis rolled his hips up again. “How should I take care of you, hmm?” Louis didn’t answer, but Harry wasn’t expecting him to. “Should I play with your nipples? Press on your bladder ‘til you piss yourself, and then suck you off and kiss you, make you taste your own piss? Hmm?” Louis whined, turning his face away as he kept rolling his hips.

“Eyes on me,” Harry said immediately, squeezing Louis’ hands a little. “Want to make sure the last thing you see before you come is me. I’m gonna condition you, like that, see. So every time you see my face, you’ll know I’ll make you come. And every time you come, you’ll automatically think of me.” Louis’ eyes widened and flashed, and Harry smirked. “Like that thought, baby?”

Louis gasped when Harry grinded his hips against Louis’ once, whining when Harry didn’t do it again.

“Didn’t answer me, earlier,” Harry mused. “What should I do for my baby? Tie your hands up with one of my scarves, ‘til I can get a set of cuffs? Turn you over and eat you out, make you come from just that. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Has anyone ever eaten you out, baby?” Louis shook his head as he whined this time, and Harry hummed, though his heart was racing. “I could spank you,” he mused, his free hand randomly stroking Louis’ tummy. “Haven’t been bad for me, though, have you? No. You’re a good boy, aren’t you, baby?” He was mildly surprised when Louis’ eyelashes fluttered at that, so he took a risk and said, “You’re good for Daddy.”

Louis froze for a second, and Harry was just about to apologize when Louis moaned, long and loud, and started trying to pull his wrists away from Louis even as he started rutting against Harry’s thigh rapidly.

“What’s your color, baby?” Harry asked, his voice firm and clear like it so rarely was.

“Green,” Louis said quietly, and then, even softer, “ _Daddy_.”

Harry nearly had a stroke. Hearing Louis call him ‘Daddy’ was probably the hottest sound Harry had ever heard in his entire life. But he wanted to deserve being called ‘Daddy’, so he kept his focus and smiled down at Louis, who was blushing furiously and looking up at Harry uncertainly. “Then stay still,” he said, and Louis automatically stopped writhing.

Louis tilted his head back so he could get a good view of Harry looming over him, and Harry leaned down to kiss him roughly, possessively claiming this man as his own. It didn’t matter, in that moment, that Louis was older than him, or that Louis was pregnant, or that Louis was so different than Harry; Louis was _his_ , and _that_ was all that mattered.

“Take your pick, baby,” Harry said roughly. “Give me two choices, and I’ll pick what I want to do with your body tonight.”

Louis shivered, but kept rutting against Harry, and not answering. Scowling at not being listened to, Harry shifted and pressed his big hand over one of Louis’ hips, gripping hard and punishing. “Listen to Daddy,” he said, scolding, “and give me two ideas, else you’re going to suck me off and you won’t come at all tonight. You want to be a good boy for Daddy, right?”

“ _Yes_ , Daddy,” Louis said, tilting his head back. He didn’t try to fight Harry’s hands, this time, but he bit his lip for a second while his eyes flew around the room wildly. “Thinking,” he said when Harry started to show his irritation again. “I – that, your mouth,” he mumbled, blushing even more.

“Rimming?” Harry asked with a smirk. “Want Daddy to eat you out, baby?”

Louis gulped, breathing heavily, and continued, “Or – or you could…uh, the –” He blushed even worse and ducked his head as he whispered something, so Harry let go of Louis’ hands with a frustrated growl and gripped Louis’ jaw in his hand, jerking his head up.

“I told you to look at me, baby,” he said gently, contradicting his harsh grip. “Daddy didn’t even hear what you said, see what happens when you don’t listen, sweet baby?”

“Sorry,” Louis whispered, frowning.

“That’s okay, baby; you’re still learning. Be good and try to listen from now on, okay?” Harry asked, and smiled graciously when Louis nodded. “Now, what else did you want?”

Louis looked away again, though he quickly looked back up, and he said, “The – pee…thing,” and immediately closed his eyes. “Daddy,” he whined, hip tensing under Harry’s hand.

“Shhh, Daddy’s thinking,” Harry said absently, and let his harsh grip of Louis’ jawline go, instead stroking down his throat gently. “Wanna be dirty tonight, either way, hmmm?” He asked, smiling down at Louis, who nodded shyly. “Such a good, naughty boy. A good, _filthy_ boy. I love it. Do you have to pee right now? You just went a little while ago,” he reminded Louis, a little doubtful, because it didn’t seem like Louis’d been drinking all that much water.

Louis frowned, as if he’d just realized the same thing, and shook his head. He looked genuinely disappointed, so Harry kissed him, hard and dirty again, and pulled away to tell him, “Drink lots tomorrow, and we can try it out after I finish the show, okay, baby?”

Louis groaned – or moaned; at this point, Harry wasn’t really sure – and nodded, and Harry stroked his cock when he wasn’t looking to anticipate it.

“ _Oh!_ ” Louis said, too breathy to be a shout. “Oh, Daddy…”

He whined when Harry let go, but Harry just tapped his lip with a finger, telling him to hush, and told him to roll over. “Hands and knees, babe,” he said, backing up off of Louis’ body and watching his twinky body move as he obeyed. “Good boy,” Harry said sweetly, running his hands down Louis’ ticklish sides. “You’re so pretty like this, baby,” he said, and draped himself over Louis’ body. “Did you shower when you went home?” He checked; he may be _dying_ to let Louis experience pleasure like never before, but he wasn’t about to eat him out unless it tasted like he could be hiding a bar of soap up his ass.

Luckily, Louis nodded emphatically, and Harry rewarded him with one quick stroke down his cock. Louis shook, and Harry kissed his back.

Harry started pressing kisses down the knobs of Louis’ spine, hands following his mouth easily and seamlessly. “What’s your color?” He asked, and when Louis replied, ‘Green’, he licked the small of Louis’ back, mouthing against his skin while he slid his hands up and down the backs of Louis’ sides.

“Nobody’s done this at all?” He rechecked, and Louis shook his head. “’Mkay,” Harry hummed, “it’s a little weird at first, so give it a chance and relax into it, okay? Be a good boy: ‘yellow’ or ‘red’ as soon as you need to.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Louis whispered, hanging his head. Harry kissed each cheek before he shifted around.

Harry laid down on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing the cheeks of Louis’ ass with each hand. “Little wider, baby,” he urged, and Louis whined, but spread his legs a little more, earning another kiss, this time to the back of a thigh. Harry could see Louis’ hard cock just _hanging_ there, getting no attention and barely a millimeter away from touching the blanket on the bed.

Harry adjusted his grip, using his thumbs to spread Louis’ cheeks away, baring the line between them, and stared at his little hole. “You groom,” Harry said idly, and then realized it was probably an awkward thing to say. But it was true; there was no hair, the skin around Louis’ hole was hardly darkened at all, rather than most assholes Harry’d seen. It looked delicious.

“Is that…weird?” Louis asked, embarrassed and a little timid, and instead of answering, Harry leaned in and licked wetly, making sure his tongue was soaked in spit first.

Louis cried out, shocked and sounding like he was a little weirded-out, so Harry moved his hands to distract Louis and leaned in again, this time flicking his tongue several times over Louis’ hole.

“I – oh,” Louis choked, his toes curling up against Harry’s knees.

Harry licked, spreading his saliva onto Louis’ skin until it was glimmering in the light, and then pulled away, smirking when Louis choked off an upset sound. “Shhh, shhh,” he told Louis, other fingers scrunching gently on Louis’ skin. “Daddy’ll take care of you,” he assured him, and Louis made himself quiet down and nod.

He let out a loud grunt when Harry blew cold air against his hole, and Harry cut the air off and immediately fit his mouth against Louis’ crack and licked wildly, giving Louis a temperature shock that made his arms give out, pushing his ass into the air even more as he groaned brokenly.

“Like this, baby?” Harry asked him, licking his lips and kissing the crease between his ass cheek and thigh, licking it and then moving onto the other side. Harry flickered back and forth between licking him out and leaving wet kisses all over Louis’ skin, liking the fact that Louis never knew where Harry would go next, where he’d feel Harry’s mouth next, because he couldn’t see him.

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his face closer, humming gently to make Louis shake. “What’s that color, baby?” He asked, kissing Louis’ cheeks for a minute to let him think.

“Green, Daddy, _plea – oh_ ,” he groaned again.

Harry pressed his face back in close against Louis’ crack, mouth surrounding his hole and tongue flickering over it quickly, and he heard Louis whimper, though he got a little quieter and the tiniest bit calmer.

So, Harry changed it up, taking long, slow licks with lots of pressure, and Louis squirmed, hips wiggling around Harry’s mouth. Encouraged by the difference, Harry continued licking slow and broad until Louis’ breaths started hitching a little too much for his comfort. “Settle down, baby,” he cooed. He shifted and Louis’ foot rubbed up against Harry’s cock, making him moan and rest his head on Louis’ cheek for just a moment until Louis started grinding his hips back towards Harry’s face.

“That’s a good boy, ride Daddy’s tongue when it gets in you, okay?” Harry murmured, spreading Louis’ cheeks apart once more. He licked again at Louis’ hole, grazing his teeth against the skin. Louis didn’t particularly react to the teeth, so Harry pressed his lips against Louis’ hole and sucked, pressing his tongue against it just _barely_ afterwards. Louis gasped, tensing up until he pushed himself back up onto his hands, back arching until a great, loud, ‘ _Fuck!_ ’ exploded from his mouth.

Harry pressed the tip of his tongue further into Louis’ hole, pressing hard with his tongue muscles and his mouth opened wide as possible. He thrust his tongue in and out a few times until Louis remembered what Harry had told him to do.

Whining, Louis started rocking his hips, and when Harry pushed in on a particularly hard thrust when Louis rolled back, Harry’s tongue slipped in a little further than it had been going. A sob tore itself from Louis’ mouth, and Harry kept thrusting it, wiggling. When he moaned, his tongue deep in Louis’ ass and fucking him well, Louis shouted and came, collapsing onto the bed, pulling Harry’s tongue from him, and shook on the comforter.

Ignoring the fact that Louis had just _come_ on his gray and black comforter – that would need a wash, or six – Harry hummed and rubbed his hands over Louis’ back until he relaxed again.

Harry wrapped a fist around the base of his cock, wanting to see if he could get Louis to suck his dick or not, not particularly wanting to stroke himself off into the toilet. Still, he needed to wash his mouth – he was not unrealistic about bacteria; he’d been taught well…eventually – so he kissed Louis’ shoulder, collarbones, and made a line of kisses to the other shoulder.

“What’s your color, baby?” He asked, and Louis shuddered.

“I – green, Daddy,” he said, and Harry beamed down at him, making Louis flush just a shade or two darker.

Harry rubbed Louis’ arm and waited until Louis’ breathing was back to normal and he simply seemed a little sleepy to ask, “Hey, think you can come to the bathroom with me? Get you a little cleaned up before bed?”

Louis nodded and sat up, squirming as he felt how wet his butt was, and he and Harry stood together and hugged for a moment, Louis shuddering a few more times in Harry’s hold. “Thank you,” he said, and kissed Harry’s ink-covered chest gratefully.

Harry kissed Louis’ hair before stepping back with a smile, and as he grabbed Louis’ hand and led him to the bathroom, he said, “You’re welcome, babe. Did you like it?”

“ _So_ much,” Louis said a little shyly once they entered the bathroom.

Harry grinned and wet down a rag and tossed it to Louis, and went ahead and washed his face. As he preemptively poured a capful of mouthwash carefully, he palmed his dick, now throbbing as he catalogued the way Louis was pliant and flushed, looking thoroughly wrecked and fucked all because of Harry.

“You’re still hard,” Louis noted apologetically; how he hadn’t felt Harry’s cock against his hip when they’d hugged just a minute ago, Harry would never know. “Want me to suck you off?” He offered quietly, cheeks pink with how much he wanted it.

Harry grinned and nodded. “Think you can get me off before I’m done brushing my teeth?” He asked cheekily, and Louis only blushed more, but he sank to his knees gracefully as Harry wet the toothbrush.

He ended up squeezing _way_ too much toothpaste onto the brush, because Louis didn’t even tease, but licked up the underside of his cock and wrapped his lips around Harry’s cockhead quickly.

Harry tried to brush his teeth as per usual, but the pretty mouth, belonging to the beautiful boy with gorgeous eyes and fucked-up, sex-roughed hair was proving to be very distracting.

Harry spit out the foam gathering in his mouth and moaned when Louis pressed his head back against the counter and pulled Harry in by the backs of his thighs, asking him to fuck his throat. Harry took a deep breath and started slowly thrusting in, knee twitching when Louis made a frustrated noise _around Harry’s cock_ and yanked harder on Harry’s thighs.

Louis opened his mouth and relaxed his throat, keeping his head pinned against the cabinets, so Harry clenched one hand on the edge of the sink and the other had a death grip on his toothbrush, cleaning his teeth with a fury dentists could only pray for as he thrust hard into Louis’ throat.

Harry paused his brushing to take a breather while he fucked in hard and fast, looking down to see Louis staring up at him, tears in his eyes and looking for a reaction.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he said after he spit out more foam. “Almost there, baby, almost done.”

Harry had almost forgotten about the challenge to make him come before finishing with cleaning his teeth, but Louis seemed to remember, because all of a sudden, he started sucking actively rather than letting Harry take over and set the pace. He hollowed his cheeks out and moaned, taking a deep breath and very slowly pushing himself to keep going down.

“Shit,” Harry breathed, and pushed Louis against the counter again so he could come into Louis’ mouth, leg jumping and abs clenching and unclenching as he quietly grunted out his orgasm.

Louis swallowed, but, to Harry’s astonishment, started cleaning Harry’s cock off with his mouth, sweetly giving his growing-sensitive shaft little kitten licks. While he had his fun, Harry finished his teeth brushing, washing his mouth out with water before he hauled Louis up, pushing him up onto the counter.

Louis grinned tiredly and wrapped his limp arms around Harry’s neck when Harry crowded in on his space, and the two kissed, gently running their fingers over areas like the back of Harry’s neck and the spot where Harry knew the ribcage would lie against on Louis’ back, making each other smile and shiver.

“Fuck, but you love that, don’t you?” Harry said a little roughly. “Love having a cock down your throat, don’t you, babe?”

Louis didn’t even respond, choosing instead to give Harry an exhausted smile, a weak peck on the lips, and reached for his own toothbrush while Harry poured the mouthwash back, swishing and gargling.

Louis spit out his own tooth paste just after Harry spit out his mouthwash, and Louis didn’t bother with mouthwash, as usual, instead choosing to let Harry take care of him.

Harry put Louis into bed, tucking him in and curling around him. He kissed Louis a few more times, their minty fresh breath and bodies close together to make each other happy, and curled around him easily, falling asleep within the hour.

\---

Friday morning, Harry woke up alone and got into the shower, rinsing his hair and scrubbing his body clean. He dressed casually for work, some looser jeans and a t-shirt, now that it was getting hotter outside, and Harry pushes his hair back away from his face and tied a scarf over it, not really caring what his hair looked like, so long as he could see.

It didn’t look bad, but so Harry leaned forward onto his bathroom cabinet and applied makeup, only half-interested and feeling a little too sleepy.

Once he got to work, though, Zayn looked chipper as hell, and Harry was instantly suspicious. “What’s going on?” He asked, pausing his walk towards his room to open up for the day.

Zayn’s grin only widened. “We’re having a boys’ night tonight after your gig, is what’s going on,” he said, looking positively evil. “Ni texted me, so I texted Liam, and Liam said he’d get Louis into it at lunch, and it’s _my_ job to get you into it now.”

Harry stared at him for a minute. He regretted, right then, having any friend ever in his entire life time. _Ever_. “No,” he said flatly, and Zayn’s smiley act dropped and he adopted a much more fierce-looking expression.

“Listen, you little shit,” he said clearly, pointing at Harry with what he must have thought was a Very Intimidating Gesture. “You’re coming out with us tonight if I have to drag you by the short and curlies and fit you into the trunk of a vehicle. I’m not taking no for an answer. This dude’s having your _kid_ , so you’re going to introduce us instead of being an asshole. You can wait a few hours to have sex, I think, can’t you?”

Harry sighed, but didn’t say anything, and walked off to his room, slamming the door shut and grabbing his notebook. He started crossing out songs, grumbling mutinously and pulling out his phone to text Niall and Josh.

If he couldn’t have sex with Louis immediately after the gig, he’d have to un-sexify their set list for the night.

\---

Louis had texted Harry a picture of his face, screwed up in a guilty frown, a message underneath saying, _Li said theres a mandated guys night tonight after your show, did you know about this??_

Harry had grumbled but texted back that he hadn’t known, and told Louis not to fill himself up with water as planned, because Harry wouldn’t be able to take care of him with other people around, distracting him. Louis had sent an angry/upset emoji, and Harry had sent a thumbs-down one back, followed by the skull-ish one. _Tomorrow, maybe_ , he texted Louis as an afterthought.

Now, though, Harry entered the bar and glowered when he saw Zayn already standing with Louis and Liam. He didn’t have to work before the show, since Nick was still trying to figure out the scheduling with a new employee, so Harry stomped over to the trio, glaring mostly at Zayn.

“Oh, thank _god_ , you changed,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes, and reached out to thumb at Harry’s makeup. Harry slapped his hand away while Louis murmured a hello, hugging him gently. “You looked like dog shit when you came in this morning.”

Louis frowned and turned more towards Harry. “You okay?” He asked, eyebrows drawn in concern.

Harry smiled down at him a little, rubbing a hand over Louis’ lower back. “I’m fine,” he said, nodding. “I was just a little tired this morning, is all.”

“You know,” Liam said, “I don’t remember seeing that one.” He pointed to underneath his own eye socket, implying Harry’s anti-eyebrow. “Or those second lip ones, come to think of it,” he added, frowning a little.

“He wanted to change them out,” Louis told Liam, and then turned back to stand on his tiptoes to whisper in Harry’s ear, “You look incredible; as excited as I am to hang out with your friends, I’m also _really_ bummed we can’t – do that, uhm, thing tonight.”

Harry’s nostrils flared and he swallowed as he tried to tamper down the sudden desire, and he simply nodded fervently when Louis pulled back to watch his reaction. “I changed the set list up a bit for tonight,” he said. “Songs are a little less…sexy.”

“Thanks,” Louis said, amused, and then was immediately pushed into Harry by a hard thump on his back by Niall, whose gauges were swinging and bar through his bridge piercing was glittering, the balls decorated with little reflective pieces so it looked almost like a mini disco ball on either side of his nose.

“ _Louis_ , mate! Good to see you again. Ain’t seen ya since I knew Harry here knocked you up!”

Harry had already pulled Louis in protectively, but at that, both Harry _and_ Zayn reached out and slapped Niall on the back of his head.

“ _Ni_ , I _know_ I texted you about behaving tonight,” Zayn complained, but Niall just shrugged, not really chastised.

“ _My_ behavior?” He said, gesturing towards Harry and Louis. “These two’re the ones who fucked! I’m not about to act up more’n _that_.”

“He’s just _really_ uncensored,” Harry murmured straight into Louis’ ear. “Seriously, says shit he never even means; don’t ever let him hurt your feelings. Chances are, it was just a passing thought in his very, very strange mind. He’s really great, once he gets over his excitement to speak to you.”

“He’s excited to speak to me?” Louis asked, scrunching his face up in confusion while Zayn continued scolding Niall and Liam watched on, confused as ever.

“He’s like a little puppy,” Harry explained. “He’s literally excited to be around people, even if nobody even looks at him once. He _loves_ when new people talk to him; he’ll get over it. I’m not saying he’ll ever act like a normal human being, but he gets a lot better once he’s used to you. Sorry, in advance.”

Harry stopped talking when Niall suddenly plastered himself to Louis’ back, jostling Louis again. “Aw, Louis, man, I didn’t mean to offend ya, if I did! I’s just jokin’, anyway. Harry’s just never been one for PDA.”

That wasn’t really true; Harry had just never been into feeling up girls, and before, he couldn’t feel up _guys_ because he wasn’t out. Louis must have been thinking along the same lines, because he raised an eyebrow up at Harry.

“Ni, get off him,” Harry said, slapping Niall’s head again. “ _Jesus_ , you’re so embarrassing. Act right, or I’m calling this guys’ night off completely.”

Niall abruptly gave Louis some space, while Liam watched with shifting eyes and Zayn rolled his.

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Niall complained. “He’s not made of _glass_ , just ‘cause he’s _pregnant_.”

“He’s also right here, Ni, so you don’t have to talk about him like he’s not,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist. “Now. Niall, this is Louis, my boyfriend. Louis, this is Niall, my idiotic, sometimes-best friend. You’ve already met Zayn, of course, and Niall, this is Liam, Louis’ best friend. Liam, this is Niall, and I apologize if he offends you too many times tonight.”

Niall huffed, but grinned when Louis held out a hand to shake, and did the same with Liam, though he pulled Liam in for a bro-hug after shaking his hand, patting him hard on the back and asking if he followed football.

“Seriously, man,” Niall said, turning around once Liam had admitted he wasn’t a big football fan, “don’t listen to anything I say if it pisses you off. It’s probably not true, anyway.”

Louis laughed a little, and Harry relaxed, but then he looked at his watch and saw it was nearly time to start, and they hadn’t even started setting up. “Shit, Nialler, we gotta go, bro,” he said, extracting himself from where he was holding Louis. “Bye, babe,” he added, leaning back in towards him, “kiss for luck?” He asked.

While Niall swore and ran off towards the back, where the van was, Louis raised his brow. “Since when do you need luck?” He asked.

“Since I’m not relying on sexy songs and sexy dancing for this one,” Harry answered quickly, looking over his shoulder nervously to see if the boys were hauling stuff in yet. When he turned back around, though, Louis grabbed his face and kissed him, quickly but thoroughly, and Harry was beaming when he ran back to grab Christine.

After the world’s fastest set-up, Harry took a breath and stepped up to the mic, nodding at a waitress he sometimes worked with for bringing three bottles of water for them. He tossed one back to Josh and left the other two up at the front of the stage, turning back around and relaxing almost instantly as he smiled at the people on the floor.

“Hi, everyone! We’re The Masochists; sorry for our absence last week,” he said, jutting his bottom lip out exaggeratedly so he didn’t let any real emotions show.

(Niall had told Harry that they’d cancelled the show, last week, that Nick was pissy about it, but Niall felt like he was more worried about Harry than anyone else. “Bro, I’m telling you, he’s got a thing for you,” he’d said.

Harry had just rolled his eyes. “Ni, you can’t just think _every guy_ wants to fuck me just because I’m gay, man,” he’d said, and the subject had been forgotten when Niall got off-topic.)

“But, we’re back now! And we’ll be here for another four weeks!” Some people seemed really happy about that, but Louis cheered obnoxiously, making Harry bite his lip because he was so _cute_. “We’re gonna start off with a song I sing mentally _every_ time I hear someone say the name ‘Jessie’. So, here we go!”

They started off with Rick Springfield’s _Jessie’s Girl_ , and Louis smirked the entire song. Next, they sang _Mr. Brightside_ by The Killers, and _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ by Nirvana, which Louis had _clearly_ never heard before, because when Harry got to the chorus, getting loud and a little higher, he saw Louis jump in his seat and nearly laughed.

Niall joined Harry on vocals for their next cover, _Separate Ways_ by Journey and on the chorus for _Time After Time_ by Cyndi Lauper. Louis rolled his eyes when Harry got a little too into _Time After Time_ to maintain his man card, but he sang _Livin’ On A Prayer_ by Bon Jovi next, and he was pretty sure Louis was hiding his smile behind a sweet tea by the time he was done.

When Harry started singing _Carry On, Wayward Son_ by Kansas, he got a few awesome shouts from people who were usually pretty quiet, so Harry grinned at them happily and focused on singing as well as he could.

Harry sang _Jenny, Don’t Be Hasty_ by Paolo Nutini, because he hadn’t in weeks, and then covered The Outfield, singing _Your Love_ specifically for the line _you know, I like my girls a little bit older_. He was _clever_.

He ended with The Calling, _Wherever You Will Go_ , and stared mostly at Louis as he sang the break down, _run away with my heart; run away with my hope, run away with my love_.

“Thanks for being a great audience; we’re The Masochists, and it was great to play to you!” He called out, spreading his arms wide for the handful of cheers. “We’ll be here next Friday night, so bring your gorgeous faces, if you could; I’d appreciate it, and so would the owner!”

As Harry, Niall, and Josh took everything down and loaded up, the boys were smiley and relaxed, not as keyed-up as they usually were, and Harry, himself, felt similarly. He wondered if so much of the adrenaline was actually sexual tension from playing more sexual songs.

Louis was in the bathroom when Harry and Niall got back to the table – apparently, Louis had been dancing in his seat, not wanting to disappear during the band’s set – so Harry took Louis’ seat and nearly choked on the overload of sweetness when he took a drink from Louis’ sugar-coma-inducing sweet tea.

Louis came back and, without hesitating, climbed up on Harry’s lap, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a great, big kiss on the cheek. “You were awesome,” he said, smiling at Harry proudly. “You, too, Niall, you guys are seriously good,” he added, and with a simple sentence, Louis secured his friendship with Niall for life. Nobody loved The Masochists more than Niall loved The Masochists.

He beamed, leaning over to high-five Louis enthusiastically, and shouted, “Fuckin’ thanks, man!” He ordered too much food and cajoled the other four men into staying and helping him eat it, all the while talking about Barbara and frowning when Liam and Zayn wouldn’t talk girls with him.

Louis stayed next to Harry most of the night, eating so much food Harry offered to buy him his own plate of quesadillas, but when he mentioned it, Louis blushed and pushed the plate away, blushing, and that was an issue Harry wasn’t willing to press in front of their friends.

Louis got along with Niall pretty well – it was obvious, a few times, that the things Niall said caught Louis off-guard, but he seemed to remember Harry’s words, that Niall rarely meant it if it was offensive, and he relaxed after a few times. Zayn was quiet, but he and Louis had apparently bonded already, because they shared suspiciously identical grins triggered, as far as Harry could tell, by nothing much, and Liam, surprisingly, relaxed _a lot_ around Harry’s friends and was more like a young twenty-five-year-old man than an old, polite grandpa on muscular steroids.

Niall wanted to stay out late, but around one, Harry called it a night. Niall whined, pissy about Harry bailing, but Harry had to work, and it looked like Louis was starting to feel a little queasy. Liam and Zayn offered to stay with Niall for a little while longer, at least, so Harry didn’t get too much wrath, and he had to smile when Niall hugged Louis tightly.

“Great to meet you, Louis,” he said loudly as he thumped Louis hard on the back when he stood to leave. “You’ll have to keep comin’ around, alright?”

Louis grinned a little shyly and nodded, ducking his head and letting himself lean on Harry on the way out.

He threw up as soon as they got back to Harry’s place, rushing to the kitchen sink and swearing and apologizing when he was sick on some of Harry’s dishes. “I’ll do them; I swear,” he tried, but Harry just rolled his eyes and tossed him a rag from a drawer near the stove, and turned on the vegetable sprayer to get the worst of it after sending Louis to go brush his teeth.

He tucked Louis into bed and grabbed one of the acoustics, not tired enough yet for sleep. He sat in a chair next to the bed and propped his feet up on the mattress, and he played songs he’d learned when he was seventeen until Louis mumbled, “Play something I don’t know words to or put the thing away, shithead.” Harry chuckled and played the startlingly soft acoustic versions of screamo music Louis undoubtedly had never heard of, and he sighed as he fell asleep, a few fingers hooked over the curve of Harry’s ankle.

\---

Sunday morning, Louis woke Harry up at eight, shoving at his shoulder repeatedly as he climbed out of the bed. “Gotta get up, Harry,” he mumbled. Harry grunted and rolled closer to him, pulling him back down into the bed and curling up around him tight. He buried his face against Louis’ spine and frowned, squeezing his eyes shut because he’d been trying to ignore the alarm clock, but Louis wouldn’t let him. “Harry. Get up,” Louis said, sighing exasperatedly.

“Why?” Harry moaned, shaking his head even as he asked. He didn’t care what the answer was; he was going to stay asleep, and Louis could deal with it.

“You’re telling your parents you knocked me up today, remember?” Louis said flatly, and Harry’s eyes opened, eyelashes brushing his back.

They stayed quiet a moment, almost like Louis could tell Harry needed a second to remember everything, and then Harry sighed. “Fuck,” he said, and slowly let go of Louis.

Louis rolled over on his other side while Harry sat up, blinking slowly and rubbing his hands over his face gently. “You can always bow out,” he said mildly, but Harry shook his head.

“I need to do it,” he said reluctantly into his hands, pressing his eyes back with more and more pressure until colors bursts beneath his eyelids. “Are you sure you want to come, still?” He checked, and Louis tutted and rubbed Harry’s shin.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, and Harry stretched and let out a sigh of relief. He hoped Louis couldn’t tell that’s what it was.

“Alright,” Harry said, nodding to himself. “Then, off we go.” He stood and leaned over the bed, hands bracing himself on the mattress, and gave Louis a chaste kiss just because he could, and walked out while Louis was still smiling like an idiot.

It was probably Harry’s favorite thing about being Louis’ boyfriend: Louis never turned down casual affection; it was almost like he craved it all of the time, and Harry, well. Harry had a lot to give, almost like what he’d kept to himself previously had welled up and was pressing against a dam, now that there was someone Harry allowed himself to give it to. In the back of his mind, Harry sometimes wondered if he was letting himself go too quickly; he knew people who did that (Zayn, though he’d never admit it), and he didn’t want to end up being made a fool of or making his and Louis’ relationship too married-coupley too soon and end up getting bored.

But Harry had always _wanted_ to be in love, and get married and have kids, and that’s what worried him the most about Louis: this was the perfect situation. How could he be sure he wasn’t starting to become enamored with the _idea_ of coupledom and raising a child with Louis, rather than actually falling for Louis, himself?

And it wasn’t as if Harry wanted someone to control or spoil all the time or talk to so sweetly it’d make people’s teeth rot. He wanted a healthy relationship with someone who treated him as an equal, even if they weren’t equal in all aspects – for example, Louis had been to college and gotten an education; Harry had dropped out after not very long and now technically worked three jobs to support his current standard of living. But Louis didn’t treat Harry like he was stupid, and in the weeks they’d known each other, Harry never felt like Louis was dumbing down his speech in effort to be on Harry’s academic level.

As Harry scrubbed his hair, he pro-and-con’d their relationship, deciding he’d discuss it with Gemma…and then, his stomach rolled.

Harry might be falling a little in love with the _father_ of his _child_ , and his very best friend didn’t even really know he was _gay_. Fuck.

When he stepped out of the shower, Harry opened the door to draw out the steam and wiped off the mirror, fastening a towel around his waist so he didn’t drip so bad. He brought out the box of jewelry boxes and, sighing, took out the box reserved for his clear spacers.

Before he could bring himself to take them out, though, Harry envisioned himself turning up at his mom’s door looking like he did everyday – artfully destroyed skin-tight jeans with an equally-shitty shirt and maybe something plaid to go over it, headscarf halfway keeping his hair back, thick eyeliner, maybe some color on his lids, and mascara so his eyelashes didn’t look stupid and non-existent, face covered in a multitude of piercings – and telling her he was gay, he had a boyfriend, and they were expecting a child in six or seven months.

It was terrifying, but for just a moment – in that mostly-dormant still defiant part of his mind, where his twelve-year-old mind still _hurt_ that his mom would rather shove his body full of pills than talk to him, or _hug_ him or _ask him if he was okay_ – he felt quietly vindictive.

Two seconds later, he felt a little disgusted with himself; his mother had no idea what to do and was going through so much at the time, and he didn’t exactly make himself available to her. At least they were okay, now. With that thought, Harry put spacers in the piercings that could close up before he could get a needle through them again when he got home that night, dropping the rings he so cherished onto the soap dish for sterilization later.

When Harry looked at himself in the mirror once he was done with the rings, he felt naked, and he felt not even halfway as attractive and confident as he usually did. With a sigh and gritted teeth, he started wiping off the smears of makeup, nostrils flaring every time he snagged his eyebrow spacer and when he wiped over the recently-vacated hole of his anti-eyebrow, still a little tender.

His face completely nude, Harry changed out his earrings, leaving in only a small, discreet black hoops through both of his lobe piercings. His mother could deal with them; he couldn’t deal without _something_ to make him feel more himself.

Frowning even more, Harry swallowed as he grabbed the nail polish remover and cotton balls from under the sink and, after turning the vent on, started taking off the black polish. It was chipped and looked ridiculous, anyway, but Harry still had to grind his teeth when it was all off, knowing he was taking it off to conform, rather than to give his nails a break or to put it on a little better.

And then came the hardest part: coming out of the bathroom. Louis had never seen Harry without makeup on; they hadn’t showered together, and Louis typically was gone when Harry got up in the mornings. He hadn’t seen Harry without piercings, really, either, excepting for a few days earlier, when he’d helped Harry pick out new rings for himself. But that was different.

Harry knew he was a mildly attractive man; he wasn’t some ridiculously self-conscious eleven-year-old anymore. And he knew Louis thought he was pretty hot, though a lot of that was also due to his body and, honestly, Harry thought, at least partially to his tattoos. But now, Harry looked like a completely different person, and Louis would be taking a multiple-hour drive to a tiny little town to meet the parents of someone he’d never even seen, in a way.

He came out of the bathroom and headed towards his room, looking through his jeans to find his least-ripped ones. He put on a black t-shirt, as usual, and left the plaid off, since it was supposed to get a little warm later in the day, and just shoved on his leather boots. When he left his room and neared the kitchen, where he could hear Louis making noises of disgust as he fried up an omelet for Harry.

“Smells good,” Harry said as he rounded the corner, trying to keep the nerves from his voice, like he was hoping Louis wouldn’t notice, or something.

“Glad _you_ think so; your fucking ki-” Louis paused when he turned around, initially to throw an accusatory look Harry’s way, but he stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened. Harry’s own eyes widened in response, and Louis’ face softened as he turned back to the stove to flip the omelet before taking it off the pan and sliding it onto a plate.

Louis turned around and turned off the burner, leaning against the opposite counter and looking at Harry while he passed the plate to him.

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly, biting his lip. It felt wrong, without a ring in the way.

“You’re welcome,” Louis said, eyes roaming his face quickly, like he wanted to remember every small detail of it without makeup and rings. Harry ducked his head. “Hey,” Louis said, moving closer, eyebrows drawn in concern. “Why so serious?”

Harry tried to smile at the reference, but he couldn’t, gritting his teeth and standing up straight in response to his own vulnerability. Suddenly sick of feeling stupid and childish, he pushed his shoulders back, making himself look broad, and looked down at Louis.

“Stop that; you look like a snob,” Louis said, reaching out to put a hand on Harry’s stomach, over his shirt. “Why are you acting like that?” At Harry’s confused look, he added, “All weird. What’s wrong with you?”

Harry shrugged, but Louis folded his arms and stood there a little defiantly, like he’d wait until Harry broke, so Harry mumbled, “I have to chill on the _stuff_ ,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face, “or my mom’d have a heart attack.”

Louis looked surprised. “She doesn’t know you still wear makeup?” He asked, frowning.

Harry shrugged again. “I mean, she _knows_ …like, she sees my Facebook, and stuff. But it’s kind of – a different thing, to, like, make her see it in person.”

Instead of grimacing and nodding in guilty agreement, like he kind of thought Louis’d do, Louis frowned and looked at Harry with his lip curled. “That’s stupid,” he said boldly, but Harry shook his head.

“Hey, it’s – it’s whatever. Like, we’re just going straight there, straight back, and we’re not meeting anyone but my parents, so…I’ll be okay.” He paused for a minute, and then stared at his plate while he cut the omelet with a fork. “Listen, uh,” he began a little awkwardly, feeling self-conscious as Louis stared at him. “I know you’ve never – seen me, uhm, without makeup before, but if you could just, you know, like, _not_ …freak out? I’m really – basically, I kind of need all the encouragement I can get, and, you know, it’s stupid to be so self-conscious all the time with my boyfriend and my _parents_ , but –”

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis interrupted, sounding a little irritated. “How many times do I have to tell you that being self-conscious or having a less-than-stellar self-esteem isn’t stupid? It’s a real thing. We can’t all look like me,” he said, grinning only at the very last part, trying to ease the tension.

Harry continued cutting the omelet into pieces, frowning and sighing. “I wish Gemma could be there,” he said a little sadly.

Gemma was all set to come visit the same day as Harry, but she’d gotten called into work and couldn’t make it, last minute. Louis was incredible, Harry knew, and he really didn’t even think his parents would freak out too badly, but his sister was the person he could trust always, no matter what, and he could never get tired of her company or dry wit, so similar to his own. She’d know how to make this work.

Louis stood and came up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry’s stomach. His hands slid underneath Harry’s black t-shirt, rubbing his abs and sighing into his back appreciatively. “Hey, it’s going to be fine, okay?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss on Harry’s spine. “You don’t need makeup to be attractive, and you don’t need a bare face for it, either.”

Harry smiled, looking over his shoulder at Louis as he continued to cut up his omelet. When he was done, Harry took a deep breath and turned around, tilting his face to Louis so he could get a good look at him. Not wanting to see the look on Louis’ face, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his nose, ready for Louis to criticize.

Instead, though, Harry felt Louis’ hands cupping his face, fingers stroking over his eyebrows and feather-light over his eyelids, his thumbs filling up the skin under his eyes. “Can you look at me?” Louis asked quietly, and Harry opened his eyes, his breath hitching.

Louis was staring at him looking amazed, but not like Harry was a freak show. He looked…in _awe_ of him, or something, and when Harry’s eyes met Louis’ he smiled softly. “You look handsome as ever,” he said, and it looked like he was telling the truth.

Harry leaned down and kissed him gently, not wanting to ruin how emotionally sincere the moment felt.

\---

Phoenicia, New York was a small town near the Catskills, a little out of the way and mostly unknown to people who didn’t grow up in or near it. Louis watched out the windows curiously, transfixed and defending himself when Harry teased him for it, complaining that he’d always lived near a big city growing up, always close to Manhattan. Harry drove down narrow roads, some of them dirt and gravel, and sighed as he turned down the too-familiar street.

When they pulled up to Harry’s parents’ house, Louis’ nose was practically glued to the window, taking in the place. “Well, here it is,” Harry said. “Sixty-seven Woodland Clove Road, Phoenicia, New York.” Staring at the house, Harry felt what he felt every time he’d visited since he left: _he didn’t want to be there_.

“Are you ready for this?” Louis asked, squeezing Harry’s hand from the passenger seat, drawing him out of his pity part of one. “I can get a cab and go on home; you can just say your friend got sick, or –”

“Really, I think I need you here,” Harry interrupted him, staring down at his lap and fiddling with a loose thread, trying to pull it loose so his mom wouldn’t see it. “Come on,” he said, sighing, but Louis only leaned in to kiss his cheek before he unbuckled himself.

Harry waited until Louis rounded the front of the car and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “They’re still at church,” he told Louis, smiling, “but they should be home pretty soon. Are you hungry?”

Louis nodded, scrunching his nose a little, like he was guilty, so Harry smiled over at him as he opened the door, urging Louis in ahead of him. “To your right is the kitchen,” he said, shutting the door behind him as he followed Louis. Almost as soon as they entered the house, Louis tensed up, looking over his shoulder to Harry several times as he walked down the hallway, like he was making sure Harry was still following him.

Entering the kitchen, Louis stood in a corner of the counters, crossing his legs at the ankle and looking around curiously while Harry looked through the fridge. There was some chicken thawing, so Harry took it out, along with some eggs, flour, and pepper, and grabbed a giant mixing bowl. Harry started washing the chicken strips, but let Louis quietly take over while he mixed together the rest of the ingredients and talked about the house, giving a few good memories, like the things Robin did to try to win him over, back when he and Harry’s mom had just started dating.

By the time Harry was grabbing the pan to cook the chicken strips in, Louis was a little more relaxed, laughing when Harry got to the night Robin had let Harry and Gemma do his hair and makeup and then took them out for ice cream looking like a complete idiot. “We really put that poor man through the ringer,” Harry said, smiling at the memories while Louis covered his mouth with the back of his wrist, not wanting to touch his face with his egg-y hands.

They heard the crunch of gravel and a horn honked twice, quickly, and Harry and Louis both straightened up. “Mom and Robin,” Harry announced to Louis, smiling encouragingly. Louis put on a brave smile, though Harry could tell he was a little nervous, so he grabbed his hand, laughing when Louis cringed in disgust – Louis’ egg-soaked hand mixing with Harry’s flour-covered one made him look like he wanted to gag.

“Don’t you want to go out and greet them?” Louis asked, though he made no move.

“Don’t need to,” Harry said, just as they heard the front door opening up.

“Harry? Darling, are you here?”

Louis jumped as Anne’s voice filled the house, so Harry snickered before he called out, “We’re in the kitchen, Mom!” There were distinct sounds of hurrying – Harry was pretty sure he heard his mom elbow Robin out of the way – and Harry left the chicken to soak up the egg, flour, and pepper mixture when he heard his mom stop in the doorway.

When he looked, Louis had washed his hands and was toying with his shirt, fidgety, but Anne was staring completely at Harry, her eyes watery with tears. “You’re _home_ ,” she said, her voice breaking, and Harry didn’t even have time to fully smile before she was in his arms, crying on his shoulder.

“ _Mom_ , you saw me, like, five months ago at Christmas,” he said, chuckling. “It’s not like I’ve been at _war_ ; I’m only a few hours away!”

“I know, but I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her voice vibrating on his shoulder. “And you’re never here but Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I never know how you are…”

Harry felt a little guilt churning in his stomach; he had no problem seeing his parents. In fact, he missed them very often. He just couldn’t stand coming back to Phoenicia, where everything had happened. He refrained from rubbing his floury hands over his mom’s back and smiled up at Robin in greeting. “Hey, you guys are always welcome to come visit me; I know I’ve told you that, haven’t I?”

It only made Anne cry a little harder, and Harry spared a second to wonder what Louis was thinking, standing and watching behind them. After too long, though, Harry ignored the flour and grabbed his mom’s shoulders, pushing her back far enough to make eye contact. Her eyes roamed his face, flickering from piercing hole to spacer and back.

“I mean it,” he said firmly. “You guys should come visit me. I’d love to see you more often. _But_ ,” he said emphatically, wiping underneath his mom’s eyes with flour-y hands as she laughed, a little embarrassed, “You’re gonna have to stop your water-works, because I’ve got a guest, and I want you and Robin to meet him.”

Anne squeaked and turned away from both Harry and Louis, wiping her eyes and fixing her general face, and Robin laughed as he came in closer, wrapping Harry in a tight hug and clapping his back before kissing the side of his head.

“Harry, boy, it’s good to see you again,” he said in his rumbly voice. “Been good?”

“Ah, you know me,” Harry deflected with a smile. “Sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll, all the time.” They both laughed in a bro-dude sort of way that normally, Harry would cringe a little at, but it was acceptable with Robin. “Nah, just working a lot, really. Uhm, Mom, are you – can I introduce everyone?” Harry reached back towards Louis and looked over his shoulder, wanting him to step up, and when Louis did, Harry smiled.

“So, Mom, Robin, this is Louis Tomlinson. Louis, this is my mom, Anne, and my dad, Robin.”

“It’s really nice to meet you guys,” Louis said politely, shaking Robin’s hand firmly and stepping in to give a slightly confused Anne a hug.

“You, too, Louis,” Robin said, and Anne just looked between the two of them, how they were standing so close, and Harry took a deep breath – but it wasn’t time, just yet.

Instead, Robin grunted in discomfort, saving the awkward moment as he tugged on his tie. “Honey, I think I’m going to die if I don’t get out of these clothes,” he complained, and Anne rolled her eyes, but stepped back.

“Harry, darling, you’ve got lunch, right?” She checked, and Harry nodded, smiling. “Great, we’re just going to change into something more appropriate. We’ll be right out.” With that, she gave Louis a friendly smile, and ushered Robin out of the room, heading up the stairs towards their bedroom to change.

Harry was quiet as he turned back around to the stove, lighting the burner and placing a few strips down onto it, making it hiss. He could feel Louis watching him, but Harry was just content enough to have seen his mom and had a positive half-interaction with her. He’d missed her hugs, and her overly-formal way of speaking for a small-town New Yorker, and he just wanted a nice day with his parents before she threw them out.

Okay. She wouldn’t ever throw them _out_ …but Harry knew this confession could very easily break her heart.

“So,” Louis said, drawing the word out like he was unsure of his place.

“So,” Harry echoed a little more lightly, smiling over at him as he grabbed another pan to make the cooking go faster.

“You – uh, when do you think you’re going to tell them?” Louis asked quietly, looking around.

Harry bit his lip a little nervously. “Would you mind – I mean, I was thinking maybe if, like, they just talked to you and got to know you, even just the basics, or whatever…and _then_ told them? That way I’m not – I mean, I’m thrusting a boyfriend and sexuality in their faces, either way, but that way at least you’re not a complete and total stranger?”

Louis looked at Harry encouragingly, reaching to touch his arm. “Hey,” he said quietly, soothing Harry’s nerves. “This is _your_ coming out; you can do it however you want to. Plus, you know them; if you think knowing me will help, then it probably will, and we can do it that way. This is about you – and our _baby_ ,” he said, mouthing the word, “more than it is about me. Do what you need to.”

Harry didn’t bother looking around – the stairs creaked like nobody’s business – before he leaned in to give Louis a quick kiss. “Thank you,” he said quietly, knocking their foreheads together lightly before retreating back into a normal personal space.

The chicken was mostly done by the time Harry’s parents came back, so Louis grabbed some pears and an instant pack of mashed potatoes – four cheese, because Harry could never say no to him even though he preferred the ones with the chives – and prepared them while Anne set the table and Robin grabbed them all drinks.

He asked Louis if he’d want a beer, as well, and Louis subconsciously rubbed his belly when he said, “No, thank you, I’m pr- I’m not really a fan.” Harry froze, relaxing when Louis saved himself and nobody else seemed to notice the near slip-up, and they exchanged looks, like, _that was close, oh my gosh_ when Robin turned back to the fridge to see what other drinks they had to offer.

Harry didn’t mean to brag – well, actually, he kind of did – but his chicken fried steak was _incredible_ , and Louis’ mashed potatoes were alright, as well. Harry never was a fan of pears. Too gooey, or too firm; they were never just right.

“So, Louis,” Anne started pleasantly, “how do you know our Harry?”

Louis looked over at Harry, a little nervously, and Harry stepped in. “He came to one of my shows with a friend,” he said, smiling proudly, and Louis nodded, wearing an almost-identical smile.

“He’s _incredible_ ,” Louis gushed, smiling. “I’ve never been a big fan of rock, and, you know, the eighties were before I was born, so…but Harry’s really turned me on to it; I go to every performance.”

“Harry,” Anne admonished, looking a little shocked, “you didn’t tell us you had a show!”

“I thought Gemma would,” Harry said honestly, giving her an apologetic grimace to placate her. “It’s really nothing much, just, you know, we’re playing at the Otto Bar –”

“The Otto Bar?” Robin interrupted, looking impressed. “Harry, boy, the Otto Bar is no easy feat –”

“You mean you and The – uhm, The Masters?” Anne asked, scrunching her face, like she knew that wasn’t right, but couldn’t remember what _was_.

“The Masochists,” Harry corrected, smiling. “Yeah, me and Niall and our drummer, Josh. And I knew the owner,” Harry said, addressing Robin, “so it’s really not –”

“He’s being modest,” Louis interrupted, rolling his eyes, and leaned in closer to Harry’s parents, like he was telling a secret. “They’re incredible, and Harry is a _fantastic_ performer. Stage presence like you wouldn’t believe; everyone really likes him.”

Harry tried to fight down a blush, and wished he was wearing makeup. Not that it would hide the heat in his cheeks, but at least he wouldn’t feel so naked. “Stop,” he said quietly, but Louis only smiled. Harry wondered, briefly, where the shy Louis had gone. While Harry liked that he seemed comfortable, there was something about him that seemed a little off. Maybe it was just his own nerves, and he was projecting them, or something.

Anne looked conflicted, torn between pride in her son and quiet disapproval of Harry’s “hobby”. “Well, Harry certainly did always have the voice of a little angel,” she settled for, smiling at Harry, who grinned back.

“So, tell us about the gig,” Robin said. “Is it a regular thing?”

Harry nodded, chewing his food as he covered his mouth and replied, “We were signed on for every Friday for eight weeks, and after that, Nick – the owner of the bar – said he’d talk to us about something a little more frequent, maybe.”

“That’s great, boy,” Robin said, beaming. “Glad to see you finally chasing what you want. Still at the parlor, though?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Zayn’s uncle’s got me full time, now, so I’m under some really good benefits, you know, and Nick also gave me a small little bar tending thing, for whenever I want extra money, or whatever. Puts me on the schedule a few nights a week, so.” Harry shrugged, smiling a little. “It’s good; I’m doing pretty good.”

It was nice to be able to tell them that; the last time they’d really _asked_ after his working situation, he’d just been hired on as an actual employee, rather than an apprentice, at the parlor, and he was struggling. He’d thrown a fit once Anne had tried to sneak him money out of pity and worry, and they rarely brought work up in family gatherings as a discussion topic.

“So, Louis, what about you? What brings a guy like you into a bar The Masochists are playing in?” Anne asked, voice changing awkwardly, like she was trying to keep any judgmental inflection from her voice.

Louis frowned for a half a second, like he’d picked it up, as well, but he forced a smile and answered, “Me and my closest business partner, Liam, go there on Fridays. We always have meetings with the higher-ups, and it gets a little stressful. I didn’t know Harry’s band would be playing, but Zayn saw us watching and getting into it, I guess, and came over to join us and talked about them all, and introduced us after the show.”

“The bar’s changing its sort of…theme, I guess,” Harry supplied. “Nick’s in charge, now that his dad died, so he’s trying to kind of bring in a younger, more underground type of crowd. It used to be more of a white- or blue-collared kind of place.”

Anne nodded. “Oh, okay,” she said. “What do you do, then, Louis?”

“I’m an executive recruiter,” Louis answered, wiping at his mouth with a napkin politely. “I do _mostly_ independent work, but I’m still technically under Lucas Group, and I’m really liking it, there. I moved around, a little, kind of switching firm to firm, and the life and the people never really felt right until I met Liam, who was with B.E. Smith at the time, at a nation-wide conference in Albany, and after a while, we both made the jump to Lucas Group, and we’ve loved it ever since.”

“I love when you find the just-right spot,” Anne said, smiling encouragingly. “So, you moved around a lot?”

“Yes, ma’am, for a while,” Louis said, nodding. “I stayed mostly north-east coast, and did some work from Nevada, but I’m a Manhattan man, born and bred, so being away from the family was a little too rough on me. I’ve got five sisters and a little brother, and we’re all pretty close. It was a better decision to move back home,” Louis shrugged, eyes glowing as he talked about his family. Harry wished he had that, or at the very least, he wished Louis’ eyes would glow like that when he talked about Harry.

Lunch passed nicely, Harry and his parents catching each other up and filling Louis in, telling funny stories but not really talking about much of anything important, otherwise.

Anne, Harry, and Louis cleaned up while Robin ran to the convenience store for ice cream – Louis had wanted to go, since with his nausea, he could hardly tell what he’d want or hate until he got his eyes on it, but one look at Harry’s face, paling at the thought of going out in public, had Louis brushing his wishes to the side. He could deal without dessert, if he didn’t like what they got.

Anne chattered aimlessly, like she was just happy to have company, and it made Harry feel a little bad for not inviting her up before. He’d assumed she was just _aware_ that she could come visit, but, given their up-and-down relationship, maybe it wasn’t really all too obvious, and that made him a little sad.

Before long, though, Robin was back with cookies ‘n’ cream and mint chocolate chip, and Harry scooped giant portions for himself while Louis ate his mint chocolate chip from a small coffee mug, knowing the sugar would make him feel gross if he had too much too fast. They sat out on the back porch, screened in to keep bugs away, and enjoyed the sun of the late afternoon.

Louis got sleepy, so Harry went out into the back yard and laid down on the hammock with him, like he used to do with Zayn and Gemma (but never Niall; Niall farted any time he got too relaxed, and sharing a close space with him, especially when the swinging of the hammock made it hard to escape quickly, was a bad idea).

Harry must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, the sun had set and it was getting a little chilly again, so close to the mountains. Louis was looking up at the sky, and Harry sighed. He really wanted to kiss him. This day was exactly the kind of early-summer day he wanted to spend with Louis and their child, curled up between them on the hammock, enjoying the sun and everyone’s families.

Anne called them in for dinner, before too long, and as Harry helped Louis up from the hammock, he resolved to tell them, because he wanted to be _able_ to have those days, whenever he came to visit.

So, at dinner, Harry squeezed Louis’ thigh until he jumped, and took a deep breath.

“So, uhm, I think we should – I think we have to have a talk,” Harry said a little shakily, and everyone looked up at him curiously.

Harry held Louis’ hand under the table, Robin and Anne sitting across from them, and Harry bit his lip before he blurted out, “I’m gay.”

Robin sighed and sat back, like he was relieved, but Anne’s lips tightened. “You’re –”

“Gay,” Harry finished for her when her mouth froze, like she couldn’t say the word. “I’m – yeah, uhm, I am attracted to boys…particularly Louis.”

Louis squeezed his hand hard when both Robin and Anne looked from Harry to him. Robin looked merely curious, but Anne’s gaze had a bit of edge to it, especially when she licked her lips and looked between the two of them and angled her body more towards Harry.

“Sweetheart,” she said gently, looking emotionally very upset. “I know you didn’t – have the _easiest_ time, in high school, but, uh. Is this…a result of, you know, what those boys did to you?”

Harry blushed, humiliated she would jump to blaming his sexuality on something like that, and shook his head. “No – Mom, that was, I never…I never, uhm, told you, but those – you remember Max? Max George?” Anne looked furious – she remembered Harry telling her, in a therapy session, that Max was behind all the _activities_ , and that he had urged Harry to sleep with all those boys and given him all the drugs and alcohol. “He was actually, uh, my first boyfriend.”

Anne’s nostrils flared and she scowled. “You were _dating_ that boy?” She nearly growled at him, and Harry bit his lip again, stomach churning uncomfortably.

“We can – we can talk about that later, I promise,” Harry hedged, “but for now, I want to – uh, announce something else. Uhm, so, yeah, Louis is my boyfriend, and we’re – we’re having a baby.” Upon announcing _this_ news, Harry grinned, happiness welling up in his chest, and Louis smiled a little nervously and hopefully at Harry’s parents.

And just like that, Robin’s face lit up, and Anne’s upset was momentarily forgotten, and Harry suddenly very distinctly remembered his mom always complaining on holidays that her friends had several grandchildren right now and she had none, and that at the rate her children were going, she’d not be a grandma until she was on her deathbed.

“You’re – a _baby_?” Anne echoed with wide eyes, and Robin scooted his chair back and rubbed at his face a few times. Harry’s mom had tears in her eyes as she looked between the two, and Harry and Louis looked at each other a little nervously, hopeful that they weren’t about to be thrown from the house.

Finally, though, Robin moved his hands away and he reached across the table to them, smiling widely. Harry and Louis, a little bewildered, glanced at each other before they separated their hands and reached towards Robin’s. Robin grabbed hold of them, his hands so big they dwarfed even Harry’s, and squeezed them, his face red.

“Anne,” he said, looking at his wife with a giant smile. “They’re giving us _grandchildren_.”

“Just one, I think,” Louis interrupted with a little, slightly-nervous laugh.

Anne finally smiled, and let out a sob. “You – you’re pregnant?” She asked Louis, who smiled and went a little pink as he nodded.

“About a month in, the doctor said,” he told her, and she sobbed again.

Harry’s parents cried for a few minutes, and Anne ended up pulling Harry and Louis into hugs each, getting tears all over their shirts. They laughed when Louis’ stomach growled fiercely, though he patted his belly and grimaced sheepishly.

Everyone was still emotional, but they all began to eat again, quiet and thoughtful, for the most part, and Harry felt lighter than he had in years. Louis held Harry’s hand under the table, and Harry ate with gusto, suddenly ravenous.

Harry and Louis offered to do the dishes, pushing Anne and Robin out of the room to let them adjust to their thoughts before they discussed anything further. Harry’s mom certainly didn’t want to stop talking about the baby, but Robin must have seen the slightly-overwhelmed look on both of their faces, because he gently led his wife out of the room and onto the back porch to chat and relax while Harry and Louis cleaned up.

Louis got a strange look on his face and asked Harry where the bathroom was, so Harry pointed it out and gave Louis his privacy, remembering how embarrassed he’d been at the doctor’s office only a few days ago.

After a while, Louis came back in, wrapped his arms around Harry from behind, and rested his head between Harry’s shoulders. “That went well,” he said mildly, like he was trying to get a feel for how Harry had interpreted it.

Harry nodded, smiling to himself for a moment. “It _did_ ,” he said quietly, a little amazed. “It went really well.”

Louis rubbed Harry’s belly for a few minutes in quiet before he asked, “Did you…really not tell your mom what happened in high school?”

Harry scrunched his nose up, though Louis couldn’t see him, and sighed a little. He set down a mixing bowl and then turned in Louis’ arms, rubbing his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “No,” he said quietly. Louis looked surprised, and Harry couldn’t blame him.

“Mom didn’t have a clue what was going on at school, what with Gems being at a different school, and Zayn being a loyal friend. She just thought I was acting out to fit in. Dangers of public school, and all,” he said, laughing a little – because _now_ , it wasn’t quite so un-funny. But Louis didn’t laugh, so Harry continued. “Mom never had any boys around her, no brothers, her dad wasn’t about to give her advice, so she didn’t know what to do about me. When Zayn ratted me out, at the end, she…freaked out, completely, and shoved me back into therapy – didn’t even try to talk to me. Granted, I wouldn’t have opened up,” he admitted. “Not then. But I still resented her for not at least trying, so I kept my mouth shut. I knew I needed help, though, and Zayn could really only do so much, so I opened up to the shrink. _But_ , since I was a minor, everything I told her that involved criminal activity, abuse, or suicidal or dangerous thoughts _had_ to be reported to a parent, so. She knew the basics, but only the bare minimum, because of the way the confidentiality laws work.

“She knew, obviously, that I’d been…passed around – both from the therapist and because the therapist sent me to the hospital to have me checked for injuries or diseases, or anything. So, she knew I’d had sex, but, you know. Didn’t, uh…know I liked it, sometimes.”

Louis made a face Harry couldn’t read, but it was gone soon enough, and he leaned in to rest his head on Harry’s chest, reaching underneath Harry’s shirt to rub at his back.

“When I got back, you know, and started hanging out with Zayn all the time, she started relaxing, and Zayn kept me close to his side and brought me home by curfew, and Mom liked James enough, and Niall grew on her, and she got used to Zayn’s little crew. She never had a reason to think I might be anything but straight, but I started the eyeliner and all the self-piercing and I got a tattoo the second I turned eighteen, and then just kept getting them… She probably just thought no girls wanted to date me, or I never told her about girlfriends, or something.”

Louis made a disgruntled sound at the mention of Harry dating girls, and Harry chuckled and tilted his head to the side, resting it atop Louis and wrapping his arms loosely around him.

“I’m glad you’re here, with me, now,” Louis said quietly, and Harry hummed and tightened his arms around his waist.

“Oh,” Anne said suddenly, from the door.

Louis jumped and broke away from Harry, turning around and looking like he’d been caught shoplifting. Harry stood up a little straighter, and smiled welcomingly at his mom, hoping she would take the peace offering he was giving.

Anne smiled back and stepped into the kitchen, giving Louis a smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, “I was just wondering if I could steal Harry away from you for a minute, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, not,” Louis said, gesturing towards Harry like he was giving her a gift.

“Gonna be good here?” Harry asked him, and Louis nodded. “TV’s in the room just that way,” he reminded Louis, pointing towards the door on the other side of the dining room. “Old and worn-out remote; it’s easy to figure it out.” He ran a hand down Louis’ back and left with his mom, heading out to the porch, Robin nowhere in sight.

They sat on the swing together, and Harry waited for his mom to speak. He felt naked, without his makeup, only adding to the vulnerability this conversation was causing before it had even properly started.

“I don’t understand,” she admitted finally, not looking at him, like she knew how small he felt. “How you can…I mean, baby, don’t think – I just don’t understand… What you went through must have been _hell_ , what those – those boys did to you, and now, it’s like you’re…chasing it all over again. I’ve read, you know, psychology books and things, when you were a teenager and we were having such a hard time with you. I read once that – children who are victims of sexual abuse sometimes…act out. Sexually, I mean. To – for a control thing. It that…what this is? I just don’t understand how it could _appeal_ to you.”

Harry let her say her peace, and when it seemed like she was done, he started rocking them back and forth with his long legs as he thought. “I’m about to tell you something I should have a really, really long time ago,” he said, frowning when she looked over at him, eyes wide with fear.

“Remember how, when I was a kid, I was really girly and weird?” He asked, glancing at his mom to see her nod. “And Dad wasn’t a fan of it? …He used to – I mean, I know you ended it when you saw him slapping me around, but he also _said_ a lot of stuff. Nothing, like, particularly even threatening, just insulting. Called me a freak, and weird, and stuff, and told me the way I acted was wrong and weird and that it made me stand out, why couldn’t I just blend in, stuff like that. …And, you know, when he picked me up from school, he’d do it in front of the kids, sometimes, so when he was just suddenly gone, _everyone_ knew it was because of me. So they started picking on me, and – well, you know that much, Zayn coming to the rescue and all. But then he moved a year ahead of me and I started hanging out with the kids he was sort of associated with, since he could fight. Nobody messed with me, as long as I fit in with _them_ , you know. And then, like, right before I started high school, this guy from Max’s circle of friends invited us to a party, sort of an initiation thing, so we all went, and…that’s kind of where it all started.”

Harry was rehashing information he’d already given her; he knew she already knew a lot of this, but finally, he said, “I think I fell, like, a little bit in love with him. He was nice to me, and gave me attention, and made me feel like I wasn’t such a freak, and anytime I felt wronged, I just figured it was because I was so much younger than him, that I didn’t know how real relationships worked, and stuff.”

Harry took a deep breath and finally turned around and looked at her. “Mom, I’ve been gay since I was a kid. It’s nothing, like – I’m not _chasing_ what those guys did to me. It’s not – Louis is seriously _nothing_ like that at all. He’s so nice, Mom, and he’s smart and driven and funny, and he’s not a pushover but he’s not a di- a jerk, and I really need you to be okay with us, because honestly, if we keep progressing at, like, the rate we’re going at now, I think I might fall in love with him before this kid’s even _born_. And I understand if you – think it’s wrong, or, you know, disgusting, like. I can’t blame you, you know, you’re entitled to your own opinion, but I would really like to keep you in my life, because I love you, and I trust you, and there aren’t many people I’m comfortable around, and I never want my kid to realize that and start mistrusting people the way I did. I really want you to love Louis and our baby. I really… I really want you to love me.”

Harry’s mom had some tears in her eyes, yet _again_ \- honestly, she was so ridiculously emotional, Harry thought as he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump slowly forming in his throat – and took a deep breath before she nodded, reaching for his hand. “Baby,” she said, “ _please_ don’t ever think I wouldn’t love you, or accept you. You’re giving me a grandchild, Harry, and you’re working and you’re – I guess you’re in a healthy relationship, now, and I don’t… I’ll be honest, I never thought for a second you might not be straight, but I guess that’s just my narrow mind coming into play. I never even thought about it. …But I’m not upset, Harry, not if you’re safe and happy. I’ll tell you,” she added, a little steel into her voice this time, “if I ever think Louis might be hurting you, I’ll lock him in prison, and God’ll lock him in Hell. But I will always love you, and I will love that baby he’s carrying, no matter what.”

Harry swallowed hard again and leaned forward to hug her tightly. “I love you so much,” he said. “I know we didn’t have the easiest time, always, but even when I hated you, I loved you, and I needed you.” Anne sobbed a few times, making Harry laugh a little bit, and they stayed close for a few minutes, enjoying it.

Finally, Harry nuzzled his head against hers and said, “I was serious, you know, about coming to visit. I don’t – I don’t not visit because of you; it’s…this place, I think.”

Anne pulled back and nodded, stroking his cheek fondly. “I understand,” she said, nodding. “But I’m so glad you came and told us about you and Louis and the baby. It – I’m not going to pretend; it’s a strange thought to me, Harry, and I don’t understand it at all…but I’m going to get used to it. I will. Because nothing is bigger than my love for you, and it never will be.”

Harry smiled and kissed her cheek, feeling like he’d lost twenty pounds of worry and weight that had been pressing down on him for the past two weeks.

His mom rolled her watery eyes and patted his cheek fondly just as Robin poked his head around, saying that Louis had found the game closet and wanted to learn how to play Phase Ten, so Harry gave one more peaceful smile to his mom before they both got up, returning to the house.

Louis was sitting guiltily at the table when Harry and his mom came in, and Harry smiled. In front of Louis was a deck of brightly-colored cards, and when Harry sat down next to Louis, the man leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d go get you right _now_.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said quietly, smiling. “It’s fine; we were at a stopping point, anyway.”

Anne sat down at the table across from Louis, and cut the deck in half, shuffling. “So, Louis,” she said, grabbing their attention while Robin grabbed himself another beer and handed Harry a Dasani. “Robin says you want to learn to play Phase Ten.”

Louis nodded. Harry almost felt sorry for him; Phase Ten got cutthroat at the Styles-Twist household. It was practically religion to their family. Louis was in for a treat.

\---

Harry woke up a few days later with a gasp when he heard Louis shouting in the bathroom, swearing up a blue streak. He made his way quickly, glad that at least Louis didn’t seem to be in pain, and when he opened the door, Louis’ face was a little red and his hair was an absolute mess.

“Lou?”

Louis turned to Harry, glaring at him and looking like he’d just been sent through the ringer. His button-up wasn’t all the way buttoned, and neither were his pants. “Never mind,” Louis said, throwing his hands up into the air, as if they’d been in the middle of a conversation. “Fuck it. I’m not going to work today. I’ll just stay home and be a _fucking Beluga whale_.” As if demonstrating his point, Louis tried to pull the buttons of his pants together, and they came together, but a bit of pudge now sat on top of the waistline where it shouldn’t be sitting.

Harry snorted before he could stop himself, and Louis growled as he shouldered Harry out of the way, bowling past him and muttering the entire way to Harry’s room.

Harry followed him after a second, having already decided to apologize – Louis wasn’t unconfident, by any means, but he took a lot of pride in his appearance and was always meticulous about going to work looking professional and attractive, as he often had meetings with little to no notice beforehand, in his line of work.

When he got to his room, though, Louis was rifling through his closet, muttering a little louder than before and calling Harry anything but a child of God. “What are you looking for?” Harry finally asked, after Louis muttered that Harry was _an idiotic fucking smellfungus_ and Harry nearly laughed again.

“Your black button-up,” Louis answered. “I can’t wear _my_ sized-medium shirts because I’m a fat-ass, now, so I’m _apparently_ going to have to act like some clingy freak, or something, and wear my boyfriend’s clothes. God, what am I, a fucking _Fifty Shades_ character?”

Harry sighed and sat down on the bed, rubbing his thighs as he watched Louis throw a fit and pull out every other shirt in Harry’s closet. “I’m not putting those shirts back for you after you go to work,” he said mildly, very much meaning his words but not really caring about the mess. “I’m not your maid.”

“I _know that_ , Harold,” Louis said, irritated, over his shoulder. “If you were my _maid_ you wouldn’t have knocked me up and made me _fat_.”

Harry sighed, standing up and closing in, kissing the crown of Louis’ head when he was pressed behind him. “Louis, you’re not _fat_ ,” he said, rubbing Louis’ shoulders in an attempt to make him relax. “Your body is preparing for a baby, and all that sweet shit.” He probably wasn’t very good at this. “You’re still hot as hell,” he added, and Louis sighed and let Harry turn him around.

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbled, looking away, and Harry grabbed his chin.

“Hey,” he said, and then smiled wickedly. “I still wanna fuck you.”

Louis pouted for a few more seconds until, eventually, he sighed. “Yeah?” He asked, and in answer, Harry leaned forward and bit Louis’ lip. Louis sighed a tiny little moaning sound, and Harry gripped his jaw hard and tilted his face away to scrape teeth against his neck.

He licked a stripe to Louis’ ear and said, “Oh, yeah. In fact, if we didn’t both have work today, I’d throw you down _right now_ and fuck you until you cried.”

Louis shivered, and Harry chuckled, letting a hand trail down Louis’ chest and stomach. He slid his palm, flat, against the bulge starting to make itself known in the unbuttoned pants. Louis’ hips pushed against the hand, looking for more friction, but Harry pulled his hand away and sucked Louis’ ear lobe. “Drink lots of water tonight,” he said, and Louis’ breath hitched.

Harry took a few steps back until he got back in bed, throwing the covers over his face to shield from the light coming in from the window and bathroom. “And that shirt’s hanging up in the laundry room,” Harry called, rolling over and drifting off again as soon as he could.

\---

When Harry got home from work, Louis was leaning up against his door, crouched over, a water bottle in his hands. “Hey, Lou,” Harry greeted, and Louis looked up from where he was crouched, his face flushed and eyes a little dark.

“Oh, _hey_ , Lou,” Harry said, voice going deeper almost like it was on purpose. He moved around Louis, grabbing his keys and unlocking the apartment door. “Everything alright?”

Louis bit his lip but didn’t say anything, looking around the hallway until Harry pulled him into the apartment. He shut the door and cupped Louis’ face with both hands, desire burning. Louis had _listened_ to him, when he wasn’t even there to remind him. “Been a good boy today?” Harry asked against Louis’ mouth, and Louis whimpered but, again, said nothing.

Harry started pulling Louis deeper into the apartment, making his way to the bathroom; he needed tile flooring for the mess he planned to make of Louis.

Louis went where he was pulled, Harry’s hands still cupped around his face. Louis chased Harry’s lips and let Harry unbutton that black button-up that was _way_ too big on him, pushing it down his arms. He tried not to laugh when he saw Louis struggling to get the sleeves off, because they’d been rolled back so many times to allow Louis to use his hands.

“Looked so good in my clothes,” Harry growled, pushing the bathroom door open with his butt, “but you’re gonna look so much better in a few minutes, baby.”

Harry shut the bathroom door and slammed Louis up against it, and Louis gasped when Harry ended their chain of kisses to bite his neck. Harry ran his hands down Louis’ bare chest and tummy, and just below his belly button, Harry pressed down gently. Louis’ hips squirmed away, and he made a weird noise that could have been dislike and could have been confused intrigue, and Harry cupped Louis through his trousers, making Louis throw his head back against the door.

“Harry, please,” he panted roughly, voice raspy and needy. “I’ve been half-hard for _hours_ , get me off.”

Instead of giving in, though, Harry backed up and raised an eyebrow, hand pressing on Louis’ bladder again before letting up. “Who makes you come, Louis?” He asked, and Louis bit his lip. Harry pulled on Louis’ hand, pulling him further into the bathroom, closer to the tub. “Answer me,” he said. “Who makes you come, Louis?”

Louis ducked his head. “You do,” he answered, the back of his neck burning.

Harry lifted up Louis’ chin, staring into his eyes. “Say that again,” he said, “and convince me, this time.”

“You make me come, Harry,” Louis said, his voice wavering, and Harry rewarded him, wrapping his arms around Louis and kissing him thoroughly.

“Now,” he said, backing away again. He pulled off his shirt, and Louis immediately moved to touch his chest, but Harry stopped him. “Who _lets_ you come?”

Louis’ eyes were wide, and his pupils expanded even as his nostrils flared and answered, “You let me come, Harry.”

“Good boy,” Harry said, leaning forward and thrusting his tongue through Louis’ open mouth. It was dirty, and cheap – the kind of kiss only really seen in a bad porno – but Louis moaned into it, his arms sliding up Harry’s biceps and latching on fiercely.

Harry pushed Louis’ head up by his jaw and made quick work of sucking all over his neck, careful not to leave bruises for work. He bit all up and down Louis’ chest, toying with his nipples by pinching them as he kissed down Louis’ abs.

Up close and personal, with his hands and mouth all over it, Harry could see why Louis was having problems with his pants and shirt: Louis _had_ gained a few pounds, and Harry wanted to bite the new extra bits. The problem, though, was that it was so evenly spread out, the new weight, that he couldn’t find _one spot_ enough to claim, and with a possessive growl he’d never let come from his mouth, he vowed to wait and find a spot for his mouth to call home.

Harry sucked skin underneath Louis’ naval, and bit, and scraped his teeth, and every time Harry hit a certain spot, Louis gasped and tightened the hands Harry had in his hair. Louis’ mouth was opened when Harry looked up from where he’d sank slowly to his knees, but Louis didn’t say anything, and Harry unbuttoned and unzipped his pants with an evil grin. “Bet you really have to pee right now,” he said, stroking gently over the little spot beneath Louis’ belly button. Louis’ abs clenched and he bit his lip.

“Bet you want me to back off so you can go in the toilet, like a good, _clean_ boy.”

Louis whimpered, and his eyes nearly burned holes into Harry’s. Harry just smiled and pressed his nose and mouth against the boxers covering Louis’ hardening cock, flattening his tongue and getting the fabric wet.

Harry really wanted to blow him, but he wanted to keep Louis from getting any harder, or they wouldn’t be able to aim. So he stood up and kissed Louis, pressing back until Louis got the hint and lifted a foot over the edge of the tub, and then the other. Harry paused to pull the phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter, and stepped out of his boots and socks.

With Harry dressed in nothing but his jeans, and Louis in nothing but boxers, Harry started the bath water, laughing when the cold tap hit Louis’ feet and he nearly slipped from jumping away from it. Even as he laughed, though, Harry pressed on, getting closer to Louis and grabbing his hair to keep him still while Harry pressed him against the wall of the shower and kissed him, biting at his lip and moaning at the way Louis eagerly chased it.

“Harry,” Louis groaned out when Harry scraped teeth at the pulse point behind an ear, “Harry, I’m – _ah_ – I’m getting h-hard.”

Harry laughed against Louis’ skin. “I can see that,” he said, just to egg him on. Louis let his head thunk back against the wall, and Harry bent down to suck a nipple as he stroked a finger up the underside of Louis’ cock, tenting his boxers. Water was getting warm over their feet, and Harry gripped Louis’ hips hard to keep him pressed against the cool tile wall. “Bet you want me to make you come, don’t you? Then let you pee?” Louis nodded, his mouth open wide and panting.

“Change of plans,” Harry whispered against his ear, chuckling when Louis’ eyes snapped to his. “Want you to piss all over yourself. I want you to make yourself dirty, make a mess of your boxers right here, and when you do it, I want you to think about who’s making you all dirty. Who do you get dirty for, Louis?” He asked possessively, biting at Louis’ lip before letting go to let him answer.

“ _You_ ,” Louis moaned. Harry wrapped his hand around Louis’ clothed dick. “I – I get d-dirty for – oh, fuck – for you, Harry.”

Harry hummed, Louis’ words sending jolt after jolt of arousal through his body. Palming his own cock, Harry bit Louis’ shoulder and asked, “Only me, Lou? Ever get this dirty for anyone else?” Louis shook his head rapidly. “No? Never pissed all over yourself like a child?”

“ _No_ ,” Louis gritted out, voice cracking at his emphasis. His face was flushed, and his hands curled into balls at the shower wall, and Harry took a little bit of pity on him.

He said down on the edge of the tub, leaning forward, and nuzzled at Louis’ boxers again. “Watch,” Harry said, and waited until Louis looked down at him. “I want you to watch when you pee everywhere.” Louis whimpered, and Harry stroked his thighs. “Want me to get dirty, too?” He offered, and Louis’ breath shuddered.

It wasn’t necessarily a huge kink for Harry, but he liked getting dirty enough, and he certainly liked Louis’ body when he was in pleasure. “Want to make my face dirty, baby?”

Louis let out a single sob and nodded, fists banging once against the wall, and Harry leaned forward to kiss his hip. “Do it, baby,” he said, and pressed on Louis’ bladder. “Wet your boxers; make a mess.”

Harry palmed himself with his free hand and clenched his jaw as he watched Louis’ face. He looked torn, like he wanted to do it but just _couldn’t_ , and Harry paused, rubbing his thigh. “You remember the safe word, right, baby?” He asked softly.

Louis shook his head no, and then blinked, eyes a little red-rimmed. “I – yeah, I know it. I don’t – need it.”

Harry nodded and rubbed Louis’ thighs. “Then do it, Louis,” he said, firmly. “I want you to do it. It’s just between us; nobody has to know.”

Louis let out another sob and then Harry saw it – a wet patch, steadily growing on Louis’ boxers. Quickly, he pressed his face into it, and Louis’ breath hitched a few times and Harry felt hands on the back of his head, keeping Harry’s face against the warm, wet boxers.

Louis’ cock was now perfectly outlined in his boxers, the wet material clinging to every bump and line, and Harry mouthed over it, ignoring the taste of Louis’ urine as he slid his hand up and down the inside of Louis’ thigh, now wet and hot with his piss. With his free hand, he palmed himself, and Louis’ abs clenched and his fingers tightened in Harry’s hair randomly.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis sobbed, his entire body flushed in the humiliation of what he was doing, and Harry pulled back only to pull the boxers under his balls, so he could see. He knew it was difficult to take a leak with an erection, but Louis was spurting suddenly in short streams, spraying everywhere, and he’d never seen anything like it; it was kind of fascinating, in a strange way.

Harry stood and moved close, grabbing Louis’ face and kissing him, feeling the tears on his cheeks, and said into his mouth, “Keep going, baby. I want you to make me dirty, and you can remember when you marked me as your territory, like a dog.”

Louis shuddered and his breath hitched before he moaned, and Harry held his shaft and squeezed just barely, straightening the stream so it hit Harry’s jeans. Harry groaned the warm, wet feeling unexpectedly appealing, and palmed himself again, his hand getting completely soaked. “Look at it, baby,” he reminded Louis’ pulling his torso away just enough to let Louis see. Louis was directly pissing on Harry’s cock, through his jeans.

“I’m almost – almost d-done,” Louis said, voice small and uncertain, and Harry unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans, pulling them down quickly and getting a hand around himself.

“Keep going, baby,” he said, pulling at himself. “Get it all out, you’re doing so good; you must have had so much water today, didn’t you?” Louis nodded, his face screwed up in embarrassment, and Harry mouthed hotly over Louis’ skin. “It feels so hot, Louis; I can’t believe how hot this is, oh my God.” He wedged a thigh between Louis’, trying not to rub too harshly against Louis’ cock in his wet jeans, and Harry hummed when Louis shot another wild stream over his thigh and crotch.

Harry tugged at his own cock and kissed Louis, and when Louis’ eyebrows started clenching, grunting like he was trying to force something that wasn’t there, Harry sank down to his knees in the tub, completely soaking himself in the water, as he’d forgotten to turn the water off after Louis had started peeing. He corrected the faucet switch and stopped the water flow, and immediately started licking Louis’ cock, knowing it wouldn’t be long until either of them came.

Louis moaned and his hips jerked when Harry sank down about a third of the way onto Louis’ cock, and Harry grunted around him when he felt Louis’ hands in his hair. He bobbed up and down, stroking what wasn’t in his mouth with his pee-soaked hand, and Louis choked out a sob.

Harry moaned over Louis’ cock as he stroked his own, feeling himself starting to push the edge, and just when Louis’ voice broke on a small gasp, Harry tasted come in his mouth. He sucked at Louis’ cockhead as long as he could until he starting coming, himself, semen splashing over his wrist and into the water still in the tub.

Harry pulled off Louis’ cock and panted against Louis’ soiled thigh, making his face still dirtier, and it was absolutely disgusting, but it was somehow so hot that Harry had come from it.

“Good God, almighty,” he sighed and shifted to sit back on the edge of the tub, rather than hurt his knees.

Louis sank down into the water as well, shaking bodily as he let out a few weak sobs.

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Harry said, suddenly alarmed. “What’s wrong, Lou? Did you – did I do something wrong? Are you okay?”

Louis nodded, but let out an awful, hacking sob, and it made Harry really uncertain as to which question he was nodding to. He shifted and pulled Louis up onto his lap, careful not to brush either of their cocks, and wrapped his arms around Louis in an attempt to pull him back against his chest and keep him there. He shushed Louis encouragingly and scratched lightly at his scalp, rubbing a hand across Louis’ chest to keep him calm. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked, once Louis had calmed down significantly.

“I don’t – _know_ ,” Louis answered, bewildered as he stuttered breathing and then a tear ran down his face to accompany another gross-sounding sob. “I’m – just really – _emotional_ right now,” he added, so Harry nodded and let it go, murmuring to him and rocking them slightly, the warm water in the tub slowly starting to drain because Harry’s drain had been hideously clogged for weeks.

“Come on, baby, wanna move?” He asked, but Louis shook his head, so Harry just accepted that, too, and started humming sweet songs he could think of until Louis was calm.

Eventually, once Louis had stopped crying and Harry was humming _Faithfully_ by Journey – nearly _positive_ Louis wouldn’t know it and feeling safe, because he didn’t want Louis knowing he was thinking those kinds of lyrics while holding him as he cried – Louis whined pitifully, and Harry took that as his cue to take them to bed.

He ignored the fact that they were dripping all over the floor and would probably slip eventually, but Harry managed to get Louis wrapped up in a towel before pushing him back onto the bed, ridding themselves of both their clothes and pulling the blanket over them to keep them warm.

Louis turned onto his side from his back, wiggling around until he could clearly see Harry, who moved closer and tangled their ankles together. “Wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked softly, and Louis shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he answered, looking still a little small for Harry’s liking but mostly a bit baffled, genuinely confused. “It’s like it just…came out of me, or something. I don’t know. I just needed to get it out.”

“Hmm,” Harry mumbled, and relaxed as he scooted even closer. “Well, are you feeling okay right now? How do you feel?”

“Better,” Louis answered, nodding. “You’re – you, uh…you helped, with the snuggling, and stuff.”

“I like snuggling with you,” Harry said simply, and left it at that with an easy smile.

\---

“Mother of _hell_ ,” Louis whined out of nowhere, laying on the couch, a few days later.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked him, not looking away from the TV.

Louis just groaned, though, slowly letting his head drop back as he stretched his legs out on the couch, leaning up as he pressed his chest. “Just got the _worst_ heartburn,” he mumbled. “It’s okay.”

“Another one?” Harry gave him a sympathetic frown and pulled him closer to his chest, arranging Louis to rest against him between his legs. Louis wiggled around, just to be a shit, and Harry made a noise of discontent. “Snuggle and watch bad TV with me, shit head,” he mumbled, and Louis got comfortable quickly, only reaching for the remote to turn it up as they ate.

Louis was still uncomfortable when Harry left to go busk with Niall, though, and Harry kept stopping between songs to check his phone, watching out for any indication that he should go back to his apartment, where Louis had been planning to take a nap. He was just pulling his phone from his pocket after an acoustic version of a _Roxanne_ , and Niall clamped a hand down on his shoulder out of nowhere, making him jump and nearly toss his phone into the gutter.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Harry complained when Niall just grinned at him. “Scared the shit outta me!”

Niall laughed, anyway, and Harry didn’t feel like he needed to force a smile to be polite. That was his favorite thing about Niall, probably: he never made Harry feel like a social pariah even though he’d probably always harbored a secret thought that Harry might’ve had a lobotomy at a very young age.

“What’s up, man?” Niall asked, a little uncharacteristically. He usually didn’t ask questions, preferring to let people ‘fess up when they needed to.

Harry shrugged, and then said, “Louis’ got heartburn.” Usually, he wouldn’t have said anything about Louis, preferring to keep his private business private, but in truth, Louis had been getting heartburns for _days_ , and they kept coming back, and he’d told Harry, after the first one, that he’d never had heartburn before, and it was making Harry nervous.

“Okay?” Niall said now, eyebrows raised. When Harry didn’t elaborate, he asked, “That’s it?”

“Uh…yeah,” Harry said, plucking at chords on his guitar idly. Niall was looking at him expectantly, though, and Harry sighed. “It’s just, you know, he’s not been feeling well a _lot_ , the past few days, so –”

“He’s literally got a life-sucking parasite growing inside of his man-uterus,” Niall interrupted, looking at Harry like he was an idiot. “Harry, man, he’s not going to feel like he’s getting head from Jesus Christ himself.” Niall automatically crossed himself and glanced up, apologetic, towards the sky, and Harry huffed, not wanting to press the issue anymore.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, and patted his guitar for a minute. “ _The Deeper The Love_?” He suggested, and Niall nodded gamely, so they tuned their guitars up and started playing again.

As Harry mindlessly sang the lyrics, nodding in thanks at people who dropped change into their cases, Harry decided two things: a)., Niall was completely right, and b)., Harry needed more information about pregnancy.

When Louis texted Harry a few hours later, asking when Harry thought he’d be home, Harry was already wrapping up, saying goodbye to Niall, and about to head home. Remembering his resolve to learn more about pregnancy, though, Harry buckled up and texted Louis back before starting his car.

_Idk we’re doing ok tonight do you need anything??_

Harry drove to a book store Gemma liked to visit when she came down to see him, parking the car and heading into it with his chin held high as he walked into the maternity section. He was completely floored at the amount of shelving there was in the area of the store, floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall book cases chock full of various books and a few movies and DVDs and audiobooks. Harry felt like he was drowning.

When Louis answered that he didn’t need anything, and was simply curious, Harry read it as the admission of loneliness that it was and caved a little, sending back, _be done soon, need me to stop anywhere?_

“Can I help you, sir?”

Harry whirled around and saw an elderly woman smiling at him, and though her eyes widened a fraction upon seeing his pierced face, she continued to smile pleasantly, and Harry nodded. Her name read ‘Maggie’. “Uh, yes,” he said, pasting on a painfully false smile because he needed help. “My boyfriend and I just found out he’s about a month pregnant,” he uttered, and she beamed, her smile stretching. “…And I have absolutely no knowledge about babies, or pregnancy, or, you know, what I could be doing to help him or looking out for or, like, for later, how to parent or adjust to, uh, parenting life? I don’t…” he sort of trailed off awkwardly, completely out of his depth as he broke eye contact with her and looked around at the different books.

Maggie smiled and grabbed Harry’s hand between her wrinkled, veiny, weathered ones, and patted the back of it. “Your boyfriend’s a very lucky man,” she said.

“Really? What makes you say that?” Harry asked, forcing a little laugh to keep from being awkward. Seriously, though; was this woman senile?

Maggie squeezed his hand with barely enough pressure to even register in his mind, and said, “Sweetheart, I’ve had nine children,” she began, only smiling when Harry’s jaw dropped, “all with my husband of forty-seven years. I was sixteen when I had my first baby, and he was nineteen – younger than you, I suspect – and there’s not a doubt in my old mind that he loves me more than anything on God’s green earth, but he never _once_ looked for ways to help me out!”

Harry stood, a little uncomfortable with her admission, and nodded when she stared at him in appraisal.

“How squeamish are you?” She asked.

“I’m not,” he answered, and her eyes narrowed.

“How would you feel if I discussed menstruation with you in great detail, including the excruciating pain and the amount of blood involved, not to mention, the uterine walls literally leaking out of a small opening?”

Harry winced on the inside, but he wanted the best information and this felt like a test, so he just stared at her blankly looking supremely unimpressed with her until her eyes twinkled. She started walking through the aisles, leaving Harry to follow her for several minutes awkwardly, through rows and rows of books with names like _Tightening Your Vagina: Kegel Exercises in 12 Easy Steps!_ and _Tiger Stripes For Baby – Loving Your Stretch Marks_ next to each other. As they walked on, Harry slowing his stride to accommodate that of Maggie’s shorter steps, the books started featuring men, instead, with titles like _Male Pregnancy: The Manly Way to Have a Baby_ and, Harry’s personal favorite, _Kevin Has a Mangina_ , and at the end of the row, Maggie stopped.

She pulled a book from the shelf and showed it to Harry: a smaller-sized book, but thick as the average _Harry Potter_ , this book cover showed two men dressed in white, standing and looking directly at the camera, one standing behind the other (pregnant) one, his hands around the pregnant belly tilted in a way that his thumbs and fingers made a heart, right over the pregnant one’s belly button. In bold font, it was titled _Months of Changes_ , and Maggie placed it into Harry’s hands with a secretive smile.

“A friend of mine wrote it,” she said, her wrinkly face curving into a smile as she tapped the bottom of the cover, where _Dr. George Shelley_ was written in soft, barely-there white letters. “And asked me to only give them to partners who came in, looking like you do.”

“How do you mean?” Harry asked, rubbing his hand over the book. Fuck, he hadn’t read a book in _years_ , and this thing was enormous.

“Terrified,” Maggie said promptly, and smiled when Harry glared at her. “And determined. You look like you _care_ about him, and making his pregnancy go smoother. That’s what he wanted.”

Harry nodded, looking down at the book, and hugged it to his chest. A second later, he was embarrassed of the gesture, and dropped it down to his side, but Maggie only smiled knowingly.

“I’ll ring you up, unless you want anything else?”

“No,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “No, uh, he’s waiting for me, actually. But, you know. I appreciate this.”

Maggie just nodded, still smiling, and ushered him back up towards the front. Harry paid her and turned to go, and when he was standing in the doorway, he pulled out his phone to text Louis and saw he’d said, _No I’m good, just come home! Wanna fuck._

Harry swore and hurried back to his car, texting out, _on the way home. Be naked._

Harry tried not to speed, but. Well. When he pulled up into his parking spot, he parked and turned the car off, bringing the book with him and simply hoping Louis wouldn’t find it. He didn’t _always_ sleep at Harry’s place, but he rode in Harry’s car quite often.

When he opened the door to his apartment, Louis was nowhere to be seen, so Harry quickly stuffed the book under a couch cushion. He moved onward, checking the bedroom, only to find it empty. When he called Louis’ name, finally, he heard a groan that sounded pretty embarrassed and echoey.

“Go away,” Louis called from the bathroom, “you’re not putting your dick anywhere near me; you’ve done this to me.”

Harry couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“You mother fucker,” Louis called out with no heat behind it.

“We _both_ know that’s not accurate,” Harry said as he walked up to the bathroom door, and knocked on it. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I can’t shit worth a – well.” Again, Harry laughed, resting his head against the door, and Louis swore at him again.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Harry asked, sliding his hand against the door.

“No, gross, go away,” Louis said, and Harry thought he sounded a little embarrassed, so he sighed.

“Louis, we all know you take shits,” he pointed out. “I take them, too,” he added on, like it would be helpful even though he knew it wouldn’t.

“That is _not_ the _point_ ,” Louis said loudly. Harry put a hand over his mouth. “The _point_ is that I’m stinking up your bathroom and you don’t even have any smell-better spray like a _normal fucking human being_ , so you’re gonna have to smell the _shit_ I’m trying to take. Also, the point is that you put your dick in my ass and I _really_ wanted you to fuck me tonight because I can’t even _believe_ how horny I am right now, but you’re not venturing up this way, not after this disaster.”

Harry sighed, sympathetically looking down at his dick. He wanted to fuck Louis, too. “Wanna fuck me tonight, then?” He asked through the bathroom door.

Louis was quiet for a moment, and then he had giggles in his voice when he said, “You know, this is _not_ the situation I envisioned when you finally asked me to top.”

Harry laughed with him and said, “Hey, I think propositioning you through a bathroom door while you’re taking a shit in my bathroom is _extremely_ domestic.”

“We’re a real married couple,” Louis joked back, and Harry had to swallow because, well. _Yeah_.

He made himself laugh, though, so Louis didn’t worry, and tapped at the door again with his fingers. “Should I go prep myself while you finish up?” He asked.

“No,” Louis said, whining a little. “I like that part; let me. Just go…do something. I won’t be long.”

Harry sighed, but he went back to the living room and decided to start his book. He sat down on the couch, wiggling to get comfortable, and read the author’s note, which explained that Dr. Shelley never expected to fall in love with a man and that he’d been straight until he met the man who later became his husband, and even later, the father of his child. When George found out he was pregnant, he started writing things down every day and, since he was already in school to become a doctor, decided to go into male pregnancy, with it being a more rare field occupancy due to the low rate of male pregnancy.

Now, years later, with several degrees, three children, and years of practicing experience, Dr. Shelley published the book both as a mix of a detailed description of everything happening in the male’s body while he is pregnant and his own stories and how his husband interacted with him as a pregnant man.

He was on the third page of the first chapter when he heard the toilet flush, so he hurriedly dog-eared the page and shoved it back under the couch cushion. He heard the bathroom door open and then click shut and, as he unbuttoned his jeans, he giggled to himself because they usually left the bathroom door open; Louis must really be embarrassed about making his bathroom stink.

He pulled his underwear down to his thighs and started stroking his cock with his fingertips, thinking about what was going to happen, and just as Louis entered the room, Harry hissed as his hips jumped even though he wasn’t hard yet.

“Harry, what are y- good Lord.”

Harry saw Louis’ shadow pass over him and then Louis was straddling his upper thighs, rubbing his hands under Harry’s shirt, touching his skin. Harry smiled and squirmed up, welcoming the weight Louis gave, and looked up into his eyes.

“Like what you see?” He asked, and Louis nodded.

“Love it,” he said, licking his lips. “I really want you to ride me.”

Harry shook his head no, though, and Louis whined. “Don’t wanna squish the baby,” he reasoned, and Louis huffed.

“It won’t hurt the baby so early, Harry,” he wheedled, but Harry sat up and kissed Louis’ mouth.

“I want you to fuck me on my back, so you can see what your dick does to me.” Louis shivered, then, and Harry patted Louis’ hips to urge him to move, so they could move it to the bedroom.

Harry stripped off his boxers and led Louis by the hand into his room, humming when Louis kissed the back of his neck. He laid down on his back, waiting while Louis pulled off his jeans.

Louis crawled up the bed and straddled him, leaning over quickly to kiss him thoroughly while sneaking his hands up under Harry’s shirt. Harry hummed into the sensations of both, and Louis laughed into his mouth.

Harry could only take so much, though: it’d been a long time since he’d been fucked, and he was eager, now that it was an option. He ended the kiss and, humming when Louis simply latched onto his neck instead, reached for the lube, feeling himself harden against Louis’ ass where it was grinding.

“Good thing I can’t get you pregnant,” Louis joked into Harry’s neck once Harry passed him the lube.

Harry answered with a chuckle. “But wouldn’t _that_ be an interesting turn of events.”

Louis smacked his chest lightly, and then shimmied down Harry’s naked body. Harry watched, squirming as Louis palmed himself briefly and then squirted lube onto his fingers, pushing Harry’s legs up and out with his elbow and free hand.

“Come on,” Harry urged, circling his hips minutely. “Don’t have all day.”

“Shut up,” Louis said fondly, and sucked on the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock. Harry hummed, resting his head back and closing his eyes, and felt Louis’ lube-covered fingertip run over his hole. Louis played with Harry’s hole for a few minutes, like he was trying to get Harry used to the feeling of something _being there_ , and Harry bit his lip to keep from thanking him verbally and making it awkward.

“How long’s it been?” Louis asked just as he finally pressed his fingertip in.

“Few years,” Harry admitted, hands running over his soft sheets as he waited for the feeling to stop being weird and start being good.

Louis wiggled his fingertip inside of him, not deep enough to do anything but make Harry aware of its presence, and Harry huffed. “Louis, come on,” he said bossily, and Louis complied after only a few seconds, pushing in slowly.

Harry hummed as Louis got in down to the knuckle where his finger met the rest of his hand, and Louis kissed his inner thigh. After a few minutes of feeling Louis’ finger inside of him, thrusting and pressing against his walls like he was trying to warm them up to be stretched out, though, Harry flexed and curled his toes, ready for more.

Louis seemed to read the movement correctly, because he pulled his finger out, drizzled more lube onto his index and, now, his middle finger, and Harry sighed when he felt two fingertips against his hole, waiting for Harry’s go-ahead.

He tried to relax, irritatingly nervous: since he got away from Max and his friends, only James and, once, Zayn had fucked him.

“I’ve got you,” Louis urged, and Harry let out a sharp breath and nodded, keeping his need to relax in the forefront of his brain.

It was a strange feeling, after all this time, but Harry angled his hips down toward he mattress and let himself enjoy the feeling of Louis pressing against him. Louis breathed out a quiet, “Fuck,” and Harry’s cock twitched against his stomach.

“Like knowing you’re driving me crazy?” Louis asked, and Harry smiled, though his eyes were still closed and he was still facing the ceiling. Maybe Louis saw it, though, because he added, “Can’t wait to get my cock in here, you’re so tight around just two fingers.”

Harry lay quietly while Louis fucked into him with two fingers, staying away from Harry’s prostate to get him used to the feeling. Once he was stretched out and feeling needy, though, Harry bit his lip and tried to sneakily angle his hips so that Louis’ fingers would brush against it, and his breathing hitched when it was successful.

“Want more?” Louis asked, already pulling his fingers out to slick his fingers up with more lube. Harry nodded and smiled peacefully when he felt three fingertips pushing into him.

This time, though, Louis immediately pressed straight against his prostate and Harry gasped in, breathing out in a quiet moan. “Hurry up,” he whined, breath hitching when Louis slipped his finger in even faster, keeping his middle finger curved so that each time his fingers went in far enough, it was pressed against his prostate by default.

Harry’s cock was full and hard and hurting, and Harry gave in, letting go of the sheets to wrap his hand around his cock and stroke. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna come,” he told Louis, finally opening his eyes and looking down grumpily at him.

“I’ll take care of you,” Louis said, smirking as he looked Harry’s body up and down. “Shit, you’re so red,” he said, running his free hand up Harry’s chest, where his skin was, indeed, red against the darkness of his tattoos scattered all over his chest.

Harry sat up on his elbows when Louis pulled away to get his shirt, socks, and boxers off, pouring an ungodly amount of lube onto his cock. He scooted forward on his knees, then, and pulled Harry’s legs up by the back of his knees to rest over his elbow, only letting go of Harry’s left leg long enough to guide his cock to press against Harry’s hole. “Ready?” He asked, looking up at Harry.

Harry nodded, licking his lips. Louis looked impossibly strong, like this, muscles hidden within his slighter frame and sweat making his hair darker, where it stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck. His eyes were dark with lust, and the shirt he’d just removed showed the _tiny_ bit of weight he’d gained, though Harry could still see the same faintly-outlined abdominal muscles he always could.

Harry’s mouth dropped open when Louis pushed in, and the breath he’d been holding escaped him swiftly. “Oh my god,” he said, dropping back down onto the mattress, flat on his back.

“Okay?” Louis checked, and Harry nodded, lifting his hips to urge Louis to keep going.

Louis did, but untucked his arms from under Harry’s knees to chase him back down, bracing himself over Harry’s form and kissing him. He held his position for a while, letting Harry adjust by only barely shifting his hips, and it felt _incredible_ for Harry, who swallowed compulsively and wrapped his arms around Louis’ back.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry muttered, opening his eyes toward the ceiling.

Louis crowded his vision, then, leaning up and kissing him slowly, like he wanted Harry to focus on his mouth, rather than his cock. Harry squeezed Louis’ shoulders in his left hand, his right roaming all over Louis’ back, and when he was ready, he hummed as Louis sucked on his tongue lightly and pressed his heels into Louis’ thighs.

Louis tucked his head against Harry’s shoulder and pulled out, thrusting back in slowly to make Harry inhale deeply. “Harder,” he mumbled, and Louis pulled out again, thrusting in fast enough that Harry was scooted up the bed.

He let go of Louis’ shoulder and reached up as high as he could on the bed, knowing once he didn’t touch the headboard that he’d be okay. Louis thrust into him again, and Harry wrapped his arm back down around Louis’ waist, rolling his hips in an attempt to get Louis to hit his prostate.

Louis did, then, and Harry moaned loudly in his ear. He hit it again and again, his pace speeding up faster and faster as he pushed himself up onto his knees, towering over Harry and watching his cock disappear into Harry.

“Watch me,” Harry said, squeezing his legs tighter around Louis’, and when Louis looked up at his face, Harry bit his lip because he wasn’t expecting it to be so hot, being stared at while he was fucked so vigorously.

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry moaned out, pulling his hair with one hand and twisting his other into the fabric of the sheets, rolling his hips so fast he was probably throwing Louis off his pace. Louis didn’t protest, though, only gripped his hips to keep them still as he pumped in and out of him quickly.

“Oh, my god,” Harry groaned quietly, feeling heat stirring up in the pit of his stomach. He grabbed his cock and started stroking it, thumbing at the head when he heard Louis swear.

“Are you close?” Louis asked, and angled his hips to hit Harry’s prostate with every single thrust.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry breathed, his voice getting a little higher-pitched as he stroked his cock faster and faster. “Yeah, yeah, don’t stop,” he said, arching his back when Louis muttered something under his breath and started fucking into him even harder.

Harry’s mouth dropped open and he nearly ripped the sheets off the bed and the hair from his scalp when he came, muscles locking up. Louis’ cock inside him seemed to grow ten times bigger as he clenched around him, and Louis doubled over, continuing to thrust only a few more times until he stilled his hips, deep inside Harry. Harry came onto his stomach, cock twitching under his hand as he felt Louis coming inside him.

“Shit,” Louis swore, mouthing distractedly at Harry’s collarbone tattoo.

“Mmm,” Harry answered, feeling useless and foggy. Someone could come at him with a chainsaw and he’d probably not even find the strength to be scared, much less get up and move. His eyelids drooped as Louis pulled out of him, and he was aware, in the back of his mind, that Louis left to go get a rag, but he wasn’t really thinking of it. He felt Louis clean him up and toss the rag off to the side of the bed, and he felt Louis kiss his lips, but he felt almost drugged and foggy and tired.

“You okay, babe?” He heard Louis ask. He felt Louis’ hand on his face, thumb stroking his cheek, and he made his head loll to the side in order to look up at Louis, but he couldn’t do anything more than hum contentedly. “Need anything?” Louis asked, then, and Harry hummed again, closing his eyes.

Louis hesitated, but eventually wrapped himself around Harry, being the big spoon, and Harry was asleep within minutes.

\---

When Harry woke up, he was alone and his back, ass, and lower abs were sore in a way a no workout would target. The night came flooding back to him, and when he realized he couldn’t remember anything after Louis coming, he grinned, self-satisfied. It’d been a long time since he’d been fucked, and an even longer time since he’d been fucked so well.

He rolled over and swiped his phone silent, and when he felt a crinkle on the side of his face, he frowned.

Louis had left a Post-It note stuck to his face. _Call/text me when you wake up! -Lou_ , it read in Louis’ ridiculously neat handwriting.

Harry smiled and tossed the note to the side, stumbling into the bathroom and groaning when he felt how disgusting he was – because his boyfriend had come inside him. Though it was hot during sex, it certainly was not hot afterwards unless it was immediately cleaned up, but Harry’d had hours and hours for it to dry and get disgusting and filthy.

Once Harry was clean and dressed and headed out the door, he pulled out his phone and dialed Louis’ number.

“ _What’s up, buttercup?_ ” Louis answered.

“You said to call you when I woke up,” Harry said. “Everything okay?”

“ _Oh, yeah, it’s great_ ,” Louis said, and then murmured something to someone on his side of the phone. “ _I just wanted to check on you. You were, like, completely out of it last night. Just out like a freaking log; I had to plug your phone up for you._ ”

Harry smiled as he started his car, feeling like an idiot. It was normal for boyfriends to be concerned; Harry shouldn’t be so elated from this. “Uh, yeah, I’m good,” he said, laughing a little awkwardly. “I probably should have, you know…mentioned that I get kind of – out of it, I guess. And, you know, it’s been a while…and you were, like, really, uh, good. At that.”

Louis laughed, too loud and straight into Harry’s eardrum, sounding pleased to be complimented on his sexual prowess. “ _Good to know you enjoyed yourself. I was a little nervous, at first,_ ” he admitted.

“Nope,” Harry answered. “All good. Listen, I have to go, or I’ll be late, but – you’ll be at the show tonight, right?”

“ _’Course, don’t be silly,_ ” Louis said. “ _See you tonight. Have a good day!_.”

“You, too,” Harry said, and then hung up, buckling his seat belt, and headed into work.

\---

When Harry saw Louis walking into the bar, he grabbed a glass and filled it with a few ice cubes and sweet tea, adding a lime straight into the drink, the way he usually ordered it if he could. He had it in his hand by the time Louis came up to the bar, and gave him a wink in substitute for the usual kiss.

“Hey, Harry,” Louis chirped. He looked a little tired; maybe Harry was having too much late-night sex with him.

“Hi,” he answered, and promptly turned away when a girl walked up to the bar, looking for service.

He made up her long island iced tea and passed it over to her once she showed him her ID, writing down her name and order on a pad next to his station before he could give Louis more attention.

“Ready for the show?” Louis asked, smiling as he loosened up his tie.

“Always,” Harry replied with a twitch of his own lips. He sighed a little when he saw a man standing, raising his hand like he was in a classroom still. “Hold on,” he told Louis, and then moved to the man.

“What can I get you?” Harry asked with the fake smile he was getting a little used to, by now.

The man blinked as he looked Harry up and down, and then grinned a little predatorily. “You can give me your number,” he said, overconfident, and Harry fought to roll his eyes.

“I don’t give my number to people taking drinks from me,” he said diplomatically, but the guy only shrugged.

“I’ll buy my drinks from that guy,” he offered, nodding his head towards Ed, and Harry smiled, a little amused, and shook his head.

“Sorry, man,” he said, grinning, “but I _really_ don’t give my number to people getting drinks from other people.”

“So, I have to be sober to get your number?” He asked, a little less interested.

“You have to be _me_ to get his number,” said a familiar – if slightly-irritated – voice from further down the bar. Harry barely heard him, but the man seemed to easily, because he looked over at Louis and sneered.

“You’re with this twink?” He asked, turning back to Harry and jerking his chin towards Louis, and before Harry could even nod, Louis answered for him.

“The state of New York allows bartenders reserve the right to refuse service to anyone,” he bit out. “And _yes_ , he’s with me, and has been for a while, so back up.”

The man looked from Louis to a (very annoyed) Harry for confirmation, and schooled his expression when Harry nodded. “Oh. Sorry, man,” he said, slapping a fist down onto the bar in what seemed like an apologetic fashion. “I’ll get a tequila sunrise, then.”

“Sure thing,” Harry said, trying to keep the mild irritation he was feeling at bay. He poured the drink, pausing only once to check the cheat sheet for a measurement, and wrote down the man’s name – Matt – after carding him and nodded in response to his goodbye-wave.

“Wow, _that_ was annoying,” Louis said after a moment, and Harry scowled at him. “What?”

“Louis, this is my _job_ ,” he said lowly, not wanting to cause a scene.

“And I’m your boyfriend,” Louis answered obliviously.

Harry’s nostrils flared in annoyance, and he ran a hand through his hair before he took a deep breath. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, and promptly moved to another side of the bar to take orders from some of the people on Ed’s side. Ed didn’t complain, never did, so Harry did his best to be charming and rack up tips that he’d inevitably give to Ed, anyway.

Louis sat in the same stool of the bar until Harry clocked out. He slid off his seat and tried to talk to Harry when he walked by, on his way to help Niall and Josh unload, but Harry walked right by him, too annoyed and knowing it’d cause a scene if they started arguing.

The set-up took a little longer than usual, mostly down to Harry’s shaking fingers. Louis sat in his usual seat, though neither Liam nor Zayn had come with him, so he nursed his sweet tea and watched Harry with big eyes, like he had no idea what he’d done to deserve Harry being short with him.

“Hello, Otto Bar,” he said into his mic eventually, a few minutes late. “We’re The Masochists, and we’re gonna be playing some songs for you. Hope you don’t mind. Here’s some Joan Jett, because everyone needs some Joan.”

It was pretty boring, as compared with his typical introductions, and Harry knew Louis picked up on it. They played _I Love Rock’n’Roll_ , followed by A-Ha’s _Take On Me_ , which wasn’t really like anything they’d done, but Niall nailed most of the vocals, so Harry was more than happy to play and take over the falsettos Niall couldn’t hit.

Harry had realized, earlier in the week as he tattooed a crown onto the back of a woman’s neck, that they hadn’t played any Queen, so they played _Another One Bites the Dust_ for some feel-good music most of the people were familiar with, followed by _Dude (Looks Like A Lady)_ by Aerosmith, during which Harry groped himself, lifted his shirt, ran fingers through his long hair, and screamed as he thrust his hips a few times.

Next, they moved onto a breathy and seductive version of _I Hate Myself For Loving You_ , because Joan Jett was one of Harry’s favorite women ever. The Clash’s _Should I Stay, Or Should I Go?_ was next, and Bob Seger’s _Old Time Rock’n’Roll_.

Harry got way into _Heartbreaker_ by Pat Benetar, next was _Fool For Your Loving_ by Whitesnake, and _Hot Blooded_ by Foreigner just made him downright slutty.

By the time he was saying goodbye to the patrons in the bar, Harry felt much less irate with Louis, who had, despite his confusion and possibly hurt (Harry wasn’t sure; he couldn’t read Louis quite as well as he wished), cheered the loudest for Harry and the band after every song, smiled at him every time they happened to make eye contact, and looked proud as hell once Harry took the final bow.

So, once Harry was done packing up and bowed out of spending some more guy time with Niall, Harry headed over to Louis. When Louis stood and smiled at him, a little uncertainly, Harry let their fingers slide together and led him from the bar. Louis had driven, this time, so Harry got into the passenger seat and sat quietly.

They turned into Harry’s run-down apartment complex and took the elevator up, neither saying a word but holding hands, and Harry thought maybe it was good that at least they could hold hands despite having nothing to say, sometimes. But as soon as Harry and Louis walked through the door, Louis slammed it and leaned up against it.

“Alright,” he said, “what’d I do?”

Harry sighed, but Louis didn’t look like he’d put the conversation off to get a drink, so he sat down on the arm of the couch and folded his arms, watching his boyfriend. “Lou, possessiveness _really_ irritates me,” he said, and Louis crossed his own arms defensively.

“That wasn’t even being possessive,” he replied. “That douche wasn’t leaving you alone!”

“I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but I can take care of myself,” Harry answered, trying to stay calm, but Louis scoffed for some unknown reason, and Harry got pissed off. “I’ve done it before, Louis,” he added harshly, and Louis’ face paled a little.

He took a step forward after a minute. “Harry, that’s not what I was trying to imply,” he said, sounding apologetic.

Harry held fast, though, wanting to make a lasting impression. “Well, that’s how it came across,” he said. “And what’s worse, I was _at work_! That happens all the time, Louis. I flirt _to make money_ ; you can’t come in and show people who’s boss, or whatever you were trying to do.”

“I wasn’t!” Louis protested, his hands out to stop Harry’s words. “I wasn’t doing that at _all_! I was just letting him know –”

“Louis, it doesn’t matter what they know!” Harry interrupted, standing up. “It doesn’t matter what _they_ know. Isn’t it enough that _I_ know?”

“Of course, it is, Harry!” Louis said, frustrated. “But guys get pushy, sometimes, and I –”

“Louis, I’ve faced a lot of pushy guys,” Harry said grimly, and Louis shut his mouth with a _click_ and grinded his teeth, “and I don’t just mean when I was a kid. I can take care of myself.”

“Fine,” Louis muttered, looking down at his feet. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Harry asked, not caring that he was only pissing Louis off.

“ _Yes_ , Harry, I get it,” he said louder, looking up and staring at him. They stayed quiet for a few minutes until Louis sighed, seeming to deflate a little, and reached for the doorknob. “I’m gonna stay at my place tonight,” he said, and Harry didn’t answer, even though panic immediately started spreading through his stomach. “I’ll text you when I get home safe.”

And with that, Harry was left alone, the sound of footsteps fading down the hall of his shitty complex, feeling like an idiot and an asshole.

\---

Louis _did_ text Harry when he got home that night, a simple _home, night_ on Harry’s screen.

Since then, though, Harry hadn’t really heard from him. Saturday, Harry texted Louis good morning, like he usually did, receiving only a _have a good one_ text back, and he hadn’t stopped by the shop to see Harry for lunch. On Sunday, Harry was off, and he texted Louis twice during the day to see if he wanted to make plans, but Louis didn’t answer, so Harry sat around, trying to work on the new song for The Masochists, and work on the set list for the next Friday. He couldn’t get ahold of Louis, and he hadn’t thought twice about Louis always staying at his place, because it was closer to all their jobs and both Harry’s friends and only a few minutes further from Liam’s, according to Louis. Once again, Harry was in the exact same place as he was a few weeks ago, when he found out he had a baby on the way, and he felt helpless to do anything.

On Monday morning, though, when Harry still hadn’t heard from Louis, he started to get pissed off.

He nearly messed up a widow’s cancer-related tribute to her late husband, saving it only by thickening the outline. She ended up loving the tattoo, but Harry took a long lunch break, spending it ignoring Zayn and swearing mentally at both himself and Louis.

“What’s been up with you, lately?” Zayn asked quietly. “Is it the baby stuff?”

Harry sighed and took a vicious bite from his chicken, glaring at Jade’s back for no reason. “Nothing,” he lied, but Zayn saw through it so well that he didn’t even deign to call him on it. When Harry glanced over at him, Zayn was staring at him with an unimpressed face but concerned eyes that said, _Tell me, bro_.

“I don’t know where Louis is,” he admitted, tearing at his fries on the plate.

“He’s probably at work,” Zayn said slowly, like Harry’d lost his mind.

“No, I mean – I know that, but. I don’t know where he works. I don’t know where he lives. If he doesn’t answer his phone, I don’t know how to get ahold of him. And even if Liam knew anything, he wouldn’t tell me –”

“Whoa, whoa, Harry,” Zayn interrupted and grabbed Harry’s hands to still his fingers from ripping apart the rest of his fries. “Are you saying Louis’ gone AWOL again?” Harry nodded a little reluctantly, and Zayn swore. “He’s a fucking flight risk, isn’t he?” When Harry didn’t answer or agree, Zayn softened his tone in a way he hadn’t in years. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. Wanna talk about what happened?”

“Not really,” Harry said, knowing he already would.

“I think we should,” Zayn pressed gently, just like Harry knew he would.

He sighed, and Zayn prompted Jade over for some more fries to share, and Harry got to talking, explaining Louis’ possessive behavior, the fight, and Louis leaving, all while they stuffed their faces and ignored texts from Zayn’s uncle to get back to work. Zayn was quiet during Harry’s speech, eyebrows furrowing as Harry got quieter and quieter.

“I just don’t like that,” he explained, referring to Louis’ possessiveness. “It’s like – I don’t know, like he thinks he _owns_ me, or something. But as soon as I call him on it, he just up and leaves, like suddenly he _doesn’t_ own me. I don’t get it, like. I don’t even know which I hate more: feeling owned, or feeling abandoned. Not that I’m some needy little _girl_ ,” he rushed out, but Zayn interrupted him then.

“First off, there’s nothing wrong with being a girl,” he said, giving Harry a stern look so reminiscent of Gemma when she was on her feminist kicks, and Harry felt properly chastised because he usually vaguely agreed with her feminist-related opinions, though he had no desire to go out and fight the good fight. “Second,” Zayn continued, “I don’t think it’d be right if Louis felt either way. He doesn’t _own_ you, no, but from my point of view, I don’t think he really thinks that. I genuinely think he was just trying to get him to back off. I know you don’t need help,” he said, holding his hand up when Harry tried to cut in, “but Louis’ a big brother, right?” When Harry nodded, Zayn did, and explained, “You’re not a big brother, Harry, but me and Louis are. And we’ve fended people off of our little sisters plenty of time – not to mention, I’ve done it for you, too, because you’re my little brother. It’s probably just practice, and he’s probably protective of you.”

“But I don’t _need it_ ,” Harry retorted angrily. “I’m a _grown man_ , for god’s sake! I don’t need someone to look out for me! And especially when that’s how I make money!”

“You really think Louis knows the first thing about what it’s like to be a bartender, Harry?” Zayn asked. “He’s a white-collar headhunter, straight out of an Ivy League school where he had a nice, hefty GPA and minimal loan debt. You’d know better than I do what he’s used to, but I can tell you there’s no doubt in my mind he has no idea how exactly you earn tips at the bar. So when someone hits on his boyfriend and he doesn’t back off even after his boyfriend rejects him a few times, he’s gonna step in. Say what you want, Harry, but I doubt he was trying to stake a claim, like you think.”

Harry was quiet for a few minutes, processing Zayn’s words and trying to apply them to the scenario in his head. When he finally accepted it, he asked, “But just leaving me?”

At this, Zayn sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “You know him better than I do. But maybe he just doesn’t like confrontation, or maybe he’s embarrassed. I think you need to talk to him, but I don’t know how to get ahold of him other than his phone, either. All I can say is that you guys need to talk, and soon.”

\---

When Harry got home that night from the bar, Louis was sitting on the floor next to his apartment door, and Harry stopped in his tracks. “You’re here,” he said stupidly, and Louis looked up from his shoes.

He stood up quickly, dusting his pants off, and looked into Harry’s eyes with a regretful expression. “Harry, I’m sorry –”

“I’ve been calling you,” Harry interrupted. “And texting, since Friday night. You never answered.”

“I know, and I’m so-”

“Take me to your house,” Harry blurted out.

“What?” Louis asked.

“And to where you work,” Harry continued. When Louis simply stood still and didn’t move, Harry stepped closer. “You’ve disappeared way too many times already, and I’m sick of it. I’m not saying I’m going to suddenly be everywhere you are all the time, but I have to know how to find you in case something happens, especially since you have a tendency to run off the _second_ things get difficult.”

Louis’ face screwed up, but he took a deep breath and a step back, away from Harry, which wasn’t what Harry wanted. He was quiet for a moment, and it allowed Harry to get a good look at him. He looked a little tired, and a little bloated, but he also looked sad, and Harry wanted to hug him.

“Are you alright?” He finally asked, when he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Are you okay?”

Louis nodded, and Harry took a deep breath of relief. “It’s just – can you hug me, please?” Louis asked. “I know you’re mad at me, but I really just want a hug, right now.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide, and took a few steps forward to pull Louis into his chest. He wrapped his arms around Louis entirely, buried his face in Louis’ hair, and swayed gently on the spot, his big hands rubbing up and down Louis’ back gently.

“I’m sorry I left,” Louis mumbled against Harry’s collar. “I know it’s a bad habit; I’ll stop, okay? I promise.”

Harry nodded, like everything was okay – not because it _was_ , but because it would be.

\---

“So, it’s the fourth floor,” Louis said, pressing the correct button in the elevator.

Harry had followed Louis in his own car, not sure if he wanted to spend the night with Louis. They had gone straight to Louis’ work, because it was closer – a tall building on Kensington Avenue Harry passed whenever he went _truly_ uptown, where it was nicer and everything was a little cleaner. Louis hadn’t taken him up to his office, because at nine p.m., the business building was shut down and it’d look really weird for Louis, who was an _exactly_ eight-to-four worker, to be in his office five hours past his regular time.

Instead, he told Harry how to get to his office, insisting that if he could remember _Taylor Hall_ , he could ask around and people would gladly help him find his way to Louis’ office or find Jesy, his assistant.

He then got back into his car and took Harry all the way to his apartment, which – Harry realized why Louis spent so much time at his instead. It was _so_ much farther from his work.

As they sat in the quiet elevator, waiting for it to move up to the fourth floor, Harry asked, “Why’d you pick a spot so far from your job?”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t working at Lucas Group at the time,” Louis answered mildly. “I lived here with my ex, actually, while I went to school and he worked up in Harlem as an art historian. I was at Columbia University, and he worked around Riverside or St. Nick Avie, so it wasn’t a big deal to drive me to and from.” Louis shrugged as the elevator _ding_ ed open, and he led the way down the hall, where Harry vaguely remembered pressing Louis against walls and the door, one of their first nights together.

“This is me,” he said, opening up the door of 428, and as Harry stepped in, he was surprised.

The place was spotless; not at all what Harry had expected from Louis. Nearly everything was nice and white, everything in its place and content staying there. The living room was pretty big and furnished for a large group of people to fit comfortably with their own personal space, and next to it, the kitchen/dining area was clean and decked out in stainless steel appliances, the large dinner table glass and contemporary-looking. Louis let Harry walk around, touching absolutely _everything_ , and when he went down the hall, he saw there were three bedrooms.

One was very obviously Louis’, a bathroom attached and one of the walls painted a dark blue with five very thin horizontal stripes of white, the other walls just barely off-white so it didn’t feel so hostpital-y. The bed was a little mussed up, and there were a few clothes and used tissues lying on the ground, which Louis picked up, sheepish look on his face, as soon as he entered the room behind him. The TV was still on, but its volume was down low, like Louis wanted the company but didn’t want the noise (and also didn’t care about running his electric bill up), and the bathroom attached to it was a little messy, as well, finally showing signs of life in it.

The next bedroom down the hall was painted gray and plum, its furniture matching and contemporary, but it was completely spotless. The bedroom further down was similar, though painted and furnished a teal-ish blue and electric lime green, done in stripes that could easily hold boys or girls and still fit, like the purple and gray. Also, this one was spotless, and Harry looked to Louis, who had been following him silently, wondering why a single twenty-six-year-old needed a three-bedroom suite.

“So, me and Stan lived here together, right?” He started, and waited until Harry nodded. “Right. Uhm, and when I started travelling, he started cheating on me, and I caught him when I came home with news that I’d be going on to Lucas Group, living here permanently, and it was pretty awesome. Uh, but. Yeah. So, I caught him and his girlfriend at it, and it was a big thing, but also, like – not, really? Like, I was upset, but it wasn’t really…earth-shattering; we’d grown apart a lot over the months of me being gone all the time, so while it hurt to catch someone I’d spend…what, two years, on a relationship with, it didn’t really break my heart. I think we’d both gotten over it, a little bit, and Stan was already planning to break up with me and move out, apparently, and since I had the money to keep the place on my own, I just did, because I didn’t want to go apartment-hunting, and this place is…really nice, obviously.”

“Why the extra bedrooms?” Harry finally asked, and Louis blinked.

“That’s – oh, my sisters come visit, sometimes, in the summer and spring breaks, and stuff. Just the oldest two; the sets of twins have always been too young. The older twins might come, this summer, actually; Mom’s been hinting that I’ll need to organize space a little better. Whatever.”

“That’s…Lottie and Felicite?” Harry asked, feeling immaturely proud when Louis nodded with a smile.

“And Daisy and Phoebe are the older twins,” he added.

Harry sat down on the clean, white couch – leather, very nice – and sighed. “Why do you keep leaving?” He asked finally, the elephant in the room.

“It’s just habit,” Louis admitted, sitting down in the arm chair facing him. “Like, it’s sort of what my dad does, and what he taught me to do. If you get upset, walk away so you don’t fight and say something too stupid. And I was, like, really pissed off that night, but I know you’re big on communicating and talking, and shit, and I really didn’t want to do it.”

“But that’s how I have to do things, Louis,” Harry said slowly. “You can’t just, like, _not_ , just because it’s unpleasant. We’re having a _baby_ , Louis, we have to have these things figured out, or we’re gonna wreck this kid.”

Louis sighed and rested a hand on his barely-there tummy. “I know,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t want to have to explain why I wanted to crush my glass over the back of that man’s head.”

Harry snorted at the dramatics, but Louis didn’t say anything, and looked quite serious. “Wait,” he said. “What?”

Louis sighed, looking a little ashamed of himself. “I think it’s kind of the hormones?” He guessed, sounding unsure of himself. “Like, at least a little bit of it is hormones. But, uh. Also, I’m just really protective. And I didn’t realize that you…flirt for tips. I just thought you got tips ‘cause you’re a good bartender. But, you know, you rejected him, like, a million times, and he just wasn’t backing off! Like, I totally get that you’re a big boy, and you can handle yourself, and all –”

“Louis,” Harry interrupted. Louis immediately shut his mouth, like he’d been dying for a reason to, and Harry scooted closer towards the chair. “First off, I don’t flirt back with them, I just don’t reply disrespectfully, and there’s a difference. I have a boyfriend and a kid on the way, you know? I’m not about risking that for a few extra dollars. Second, I appreciate you looking out for me, but – I don’t know, I’ve never had a possessive person before, and it’s weird and I don’t think I like it. It makes me feel like you think you own me, but then when I called you on it you dropped it and just walked off.”

“I don’t think I own you at all!” Louis protested, looking upset at the idea. “I don’t own you and I’d never want to – I just…didn’t want someone else all over you. I’m sorry. But I didn’t just, like, walk off. Like, I was always going to come back once I had a chance to clear my head a little bit.”

“You have to _tell_ me those things, Louis,” Harry said quietly, like he was getting all the _sad_ and worry he’d been feeling over the weekend out of his system. “It’s fine if you need space – I mean, we’re used to being alone and all of a sudden we’re practically living together and expecting a kid. I’m fine if you need your space for a few days, but you have to tell me if you want this to work. You can’t just disappear.”

Louis took a deep breath, but nodded, and he got up from the chair. He walked over to stand in front of Harry, tugging at the hem of his shirt a little uncertainly, and Harry stared up at him before he sat back and patted his lap invitingly, finally understanding what Louis wanted.

Louis crawled into his lap, knees next to Harry’s hips, and wrapped his arms around Harry’s sides, his head against Harry’s shoulder. “’M sorry,” he whispered, and Harry wrapped his arms just enough to rub his hands up and down Louis’ back.

“I forgive you,” Harry answered, and nuzzled into Louis’ hair, because he finally felt secure in their relationship after what felt like the longest weekend in history, second only to the first one Louis had disappeared over. “No more, though, okay? Come to me, if you have problems. Teamwork, and all.”

“Promise,” Louis answered.

\---

“You’re seriously missing so much amazing music by sticking to a single decade.”

Louis was sitting on Harry’s desk, and had waited until the customer slid a tip into Harry’s hand a little awkwardly after thanking him again and leaving. Harry looked up from his drawer, where he put the tips for the day, his brow furrowed as he regarded Louis. “What?” He asked, and Louis smiled like he’d been dying for Harry to ask.

He hopped off the desk and wrapped his hands around Harry’s waist, fingers pushing up under Harry’s shirt sneakily. “You’re a great performer,” he began reassuringly, as if Harry would start doubting his talent if he said anything against it. “I just think you’d have so much fun if you did, like, a tribute show of all the best songs you used to really get into when we were young teens. I mean, you could so easily do an edgy Nickelback, or like a BFMV night, with your voice. You always do music none of us younger people know!”

He kissed Harry’s lips as Harry hummed thoughtfully and slid his arms around his boyfriend’s slowly growing waist. “Is that so?” He asked, considering it because and only because Louis had come up with the idea.

Louis nodded eagerly. “Do you know how hot it would be to have my sexy boyfriend up on stage singing all the sexy songs I used to fuck myself to, feeling like a rebel alone in my bedroom?”

Harry shivered, making Louis laugh. “Like what?” He asked, his voice gone embarrassingly deep.

“ _Animals_ ,” Louis said immediately. “By Nickelback.”

Harry snorted lightly, but Louis was serious, so he vowed to give the song a listen. He hugged Louis to him and snuck his hands down to grab Louis’ ass, never tiring of feeling it, and Louis moaned, a little louder than normal, especially considering they were in public…and a place of business. _Harry’s_ business, to be exact.

“Sorry,” Louis said immediately, blushing as he stepped back and straightened his button-up shirt, frowning as he fidgeted with the way it fell over his curves. “I have to go back to work, anyway, or Liam’ll brag for days about how much more dedicated he is than me.”

“Go make that paper,” Harry said sarcastically, and then, “ _hey_. Stop that. You look incredible, now go.”

Louis huffed but stopped, looking away from the mirror and leaned in for a smooch, smiling when he got his way, and left for work while Harry finally went to take his actual lunch break. They really owed Zayn’s uncle a fruit arrangement, or something.

As he walked across the street, on the way to the café, his phone buzzed, but he blew it off since he was talking to Zayn. Once he got into their café and their order was placed, Zayn was tapping on his phone, so Harry got his own out and swiped across the screen to open his message up. _I’m gonna join your jockey team tonight, hope you’re good with that_ , it read.

Harry coughed and took a swig of his water, and Zayn looked up at him in concern for a brief moment before Harry waved a hand to show he was fine.

(When Harry got home that night, Louis was already waiting against his door, which was usual, and he was palming himself right there in the hallway, which was not. Harry greeted him with what was meant to be a chaste little smooch but Louis turned it into something filthy, tongues tangling wetly and Harry felt hyperaware that they were in in the middle of the hallway where his neighbor who kept inviting him to church could open up his door and see.

Harry ended the kiss at that thought, turning to his door, but Louis plastered himself against Harry’s back, hands around Harry’s hips and sliding down and in, cupping Harry blatantly before Harry could get the door unlocked. He finally managed it, and they spilled in together, but Louis pushed Harry towards the bedroom and slammed the door behind himself as he turned and started chasing after him like a predator, laughing all the way.

Louis let himself be backed against the wall and stripped, Harry pulling off his clothes slowly, teasing them both in the worst and best way, and the fight drained out of Louis as soon as he was pushed down onto the bed and Harry got his fingers in him. He rode Harry with his hands gripping Harry’s thighs behind him, moaning like he’d never had it so good. Harry came too soon, but didn’t even care, simply dragging Louis forward so sit on his chest, and jerked Louis’ cock until he came all over Harry’s face.)

\---

“Folic acid. We’re getting this,” Harry said, tossing the pill bottle into the basket Louis was pushing. Dr. Shelley, in his book, had stressed the importance of folic acid during pregnancy.

“Harry, folic acid is _for women_ ,” Louis sighed for the millionth time during this Walmart trip – and they’d only been in for a few minutes, having gone straight to the pharmaceutical area.

“No, it’s for _pregnant_ people,” Harry corrected. “They just didn’t know men could get pregnant when they started all that campaigning. It’s not as if it happened often, with all the HIV and AIDS stuff going on when we were kids.” That was true; Harry had read it. “Oh, wait,” he paused, grabbing the bottle back from the basket and comparing the labels to another bottle on the shelf, further down. “No, okay, we’re gonna get this one,” he said, grabbing a new one. “This one’s got two hundred more milligrams of folic acid, _and_ it’s an actual prenatal. Yeah. This one.” Harry tossed the new bottle into the basket and kept going, ignoring Louis’ whining.

“Whatever,” Louis sighed, but he let Harry press a kiss onto his temple.

“Come on,” he urged quietly. “Let’s go get some food.”

They moved on to the grocery section, starting in the freezer aisles. Louis kept adding things to the cart, but Harry simply put them back silently, a frown on his face when he read the labels. “All of this is processed _garbage_ ,” he complained.

“No. Harry, _no_ ,” Louis growled when Harry grabbed gluten-free frozen cookie dough. “You are _not_ putting me on an organic fucking diet because I’m carrying. _Loads_ of parents have perfectly healthy babies even after they’ve been, like, sniffing nail polish, and shit.”

“You’ve not been _doing that_ , have you?!” Harry asked, shock and a tiny bit of panic welling up in his chest. Louis wasn’t at his house _every_ night; sue him.

“Of course, not,” Louis said, waving Harry off like he was an idiot for even thinking it. “But that’s my point. I’m not eating organic. I’m not.”

“How about paleo?” Harry asked, suggesting it sheepishly, because he knew Louis would say no – paleo diets consisted mainly of fish (which Louis hated) and grass-fed, pasture-raised meat, weighing portions, and drinking pretty much nothing but water and certain kinds of milk. Louis wouldn’t just say no, he’d probably hit Harry if he ever figured out the diet’s specifics.

“What?” Louis asked, frowning. “Like, the Paleolithic era? As in, fifteen thousand years ago? Are you asking to start living as hunter-gatherers?”

Oh, well. Harry didn’t know that was actually a _thing_ in history; he thought maybe the guy who came up with the diet was named Paleo, or something. “Uh…”

“Harry, _no_ ,” Louis said, laughing a little. “Where are you getting all of this?”

Harry blushed. “I’ve just been doing some light reading about habits, is all,” Harry said, ignoring the fact that he’d read six chapters already, mostly about pre-conception care, and he was just getting into the actual prenatal and early stages stuff. Louis didn’t have to know that.

“Do you even _read_?” Louis asked.

Harry furrowed his brows. “I mean, I know how to,” he answered stupidly, and then shrugged. “I’ll read whenever I want to.” Part of Harry wanted to stalk off in a huff, but he didn’t really think Louis was trying to make fun of him.

Louis must have sensed his defensiveness, though, because he only smiled and rubbed Harry’s arm sweetly. “At least one of us is reading, then,” he said lightly, and then moved on to grab a package of hot dogs, and Harry sighed, putting the package back.

“Louis, you can’t eat _hot dogs_ …”

\---

When Harry called Gemma on Thursday, he was nervous. A week ago, only a handful of people (besides the men he’d slept with before) knew he was gay. Last weekend, though, Louis and Harry had gone and told his parents, which meant that everyone knew, except Gemma. To be fair, Harry considered as his finger hovered over _Gems boy-girl-emoji_ , Harry’s parents had probably already shared the news, though he’d asked them not to. Harry loved his parents, but they were awful at secret-keeping.

Not that Louis and their baby was a secret. Not at all. Harry just wanted control of how the few important people of his life _found out_.

With a deep breath, glad, for once, that Louis wasn’t staying the night, Harry pressed call.

\---

 

“So, we’re gonna do something a little different tonight,” Harry said, looking around for the reactions. “It’s recently come to my attention that we’ve been ignoring some _amazing_ music from our own childhoods. Now, that’s just a shame, so we’ve been working for the past few weeks on a few songs from a much more recent era, if you will. We’re gonna start off with a song I personally _really_ liked when I was, like, just learning how to be sexy, and you might think less of me later, but…whatever. Here it goes.”

Harry stepped back and started up with _Animals_ by Nickelback. Josh went insane on the drums, and every time Harry looked over, Niall was dry-humping the back of his guitar, moving his hips as he sang into the mic and Harry backed him up with vocals. Next was another Nickelback song, _S-E-X_ , and when Harry looked out, Louis was beaming, singing the words along with Harry and the rest of the crowd who knew it. On one of the dirtier lyrics, Harry winked at Louis and then licked his lips seductively, but Louis only blushed and patted his tummy, which was starting to grow, something laying on top of his previously-firm abdominals that made his shirt curve out just the tiniest bit. Louis was self-conscious about it – he hadn’t even wanted Dr. Pinnock to measure his waist when they’d gone to another appointment, the other day – and now Louis was frowning, looking down at his tummy and rubbing it. Harry would have to change the way he saw that little tummy.

They moved on to _Addicted_ , by Saving Abel, and Harry most definitely moved his hips provocatively while he sang certain lines, because Louis had mentioned that when he was a teen, he had fantasized about having sex to that song. Louis squirmed more on the stool, and Harry grabbed his crotch over his jeans and kept his hand there while he thrusted a few times. Next was _Headstrong_ , by Trapt, which Harry could distinctly remember head-banging to in high school, and Three Days’ Grace’s _Riot_ and _Animal I Have Become_ were next. _Lips of An Angel_ , by Hinder, and _Holiday_ by Green Day, Kill Hannah’s _Lips Like Morphine_ , which Harry had always loved.

“This is gonna be the last song,” Niall announced then, “so we’re gonna make it one _everyone_ in this bar between the ages of twenty-one and sixty should have at least heard of before. Here’s _Last Resort_ , by Papa Roach. Hope you like it.”

Harry cupped his hands around the mic as he sang it, mouth moving around the words awkwardly and trying to make the song his own, like all their covers. Several times, he saw Louis nodding his head to the beat, his facial expression resembling a teenager who thinks he’s a badass, and singing along to the music as his fingers tapped against the table.

“Thank you,” Harry called out, sweating and smiling. “You’ve been a _great_ audience tonight; hope you liked our throwback night. We’re The Masochists; I’m Harry, that’s Josh, and Niall. We’ll be here next week!”

As usual, Louis stayed at the table while Harry helped load up, and Niall stood on his toes to get Louis’ attention and wave before he left, giant gauged ears swinging with his enthusiasm. He clapped Harry’s back and moved on towards the bar while Harry moved towards his boyfriend.

When he reached Louis, Harry noticed he was smiling and looking thrilled, so Harry leaned down and kissed him, grabbing his hand and sliding their fingers together. “Like the show?” He asked, and Louis laughed.

“You were incredible,” he said with a happy giggle. “I can’t believe you did that for me; you advanced, like, thirty years!”

Harry grinned, swallowing and feeling like he’d been caught out, or something. “Yeah, well,” he said, trying to play casual. “You wanted to see it! Only kind of me. Let’s get home,” he added after a pause, and Louis nodded.

“Wanna go to my place?” He asked. “I have some shopping to do tomorrow, and I’m gonna meet Li, so I can drive you.”

Harry wondered if Louis was inviting Harry over more now on purpose, or if it was just natural, now that Harry knew where he lived. Harry’d been over to Louis’ twice since the first time, on Monday, and Harry finally felt like Louis wasn’t quite so unreachable.

Harry nodded and smiled. “Mind if we stop by my place so I can grab some stuff?”

“Sure,” Louis said as they started walking out. “My toothbrush is still in your bathroom, anyway. Lord knows, I need that.”

“With _your_ morning breath?” Harry joked, pretending to gag and then suffocate. “I’d drag my dying, decrepit body down to the store myself to get you a new toothbrush!” He laughed when Louis squawked and hit him in the chest, and leaned in to kiss his temple, only laughing more when Louis, pretending to be offended, moved his head out of reach.

“Hey,” Harry said, once he’d covered Louis’ face in kisses, right there on the sidewalk outside the bar. “You look really nice tonight, by the way.” He rubbed at Louis’ nice, pressed shirt and the silver-and-purple striped tie he was wearing, looking up to Louis’ blushing face. “Purple makes your eyes look ridiculously – nice.”

Dr. Shelley, in his recounts of being pregnant, himself, had mentioned a few times that whenever his husband had paid him a genuine compliment, it made his day, since he often got very self-conscious about the changes his body had been going through, even though, medically, he knew they were beautiful, miraculous and necessary. Harry’d already seen Louis start to doubt his attractiveness, especially over his weight gain, and it was frustrating, because Louis was so gorgeous, and Harry wasn’t very good with compliments.

“Thanks,” Louis said genuinely, squeezing Harry’s hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

\---

When they got into Louis’ room, Louis sighed and took off his shoes, and Harry took Louis’ hands and kissed each fingertip. Since they’d been working on dealing with all Louis’ hormones and getting over the fight last weekend, they’d been talking even more than they usually did, and Harry felt like he knew Louis almost as well as he knew Zayn.

Louis laughed at the kisses and tried to squirm away, but Harry simply grabbed his face gently, sliding his hands up the lines of Louis’ cheekbones – which were slowly starting to become less announced, Louis’ face gaining a bit of _extra_ a little faster, now (not that Harry would have even noticed if Louis hadn’t pointed it out in near-hysteria yesterday) – and leaned down, kissing him softly. Louis’ arms hung limply at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do when Harry wasn’t being at least a little rough, and Harry reached down to grab them without breaking the kiss, wrapping the man’s arms around his own neck, forcing Louis just a little bit closer.

Nearly instantly, Louis’ fingers started playing with Harry’s loose hair, hanging over his headband, like his hands had only needed a kick-start to remember what to do. Like muscle memory. Harry probably liked that thought too much to be completely normal.

Kissing down Louis’ neck, Harry let his hands roam over the smooth, barely-there curves of Louis’ sides, resting just above the swell of Louis’ ass over his fancy work trousers, a dark gray that complimented the lightness of the silver in his tie.

If Harry had Louis only one last time, and never again, he’d want to spend it exactly like this – a soft Louis, quiet and slightly confused but seemingly intrigued by Harry’s new gentleness. Harry pulled back, smiling just barely when Louis kept his eyes closed just a beat longer than usual, and slowly started pulling at Louis’ tie, slipping it over his head when it was loose enough.

He unbuttoned Louis’ shirt while Louis started unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves, taking off his cufflinks and reaching just a little to stretch and place them on top of the dresser, where he’d promptly forget their placement and swear a blue streak Monday morning in search of them.

When Harry slid Louis’ shirt off his body, he bent just enough to suck the tiniest mark into Louis’ collarbone, where he knew the button-up would cover. “I want to take care of you tonight,” he said, his voice gone awkwardly deep, suddenly. Harry cleared his throat and tried again. “Let me take care of you tonight, baby?”

Louis swallowed and bit his lip, but he nodded and slid his hands up Harry’s chest, across his shoulders and around his neck, where one hand gripped the other wrist, like he was hanging on to Harry. “Okay…Daddy.”

Harry ducked his head to kiss across the top of one of Louis’ shoulders, taking a breath and steeling himself. He remembered Louis frowning at the bump where their baby was sitting, curled up and ever-growing, waiting to meet its parents and be loved, and slowly unbuttoned the work trousers, carefully unzipping them and pulling at them so that they fell, bunching around Louis’ ankles.

Harry stooped down just a bit to grab underneath Louis’ thighs, his hands easily spanning the backs of them, while Louis tightened his grip around Harry’s neck in preparation to be lifted. Harry carried Louis over to the bed, pulling off his dress socks and climbing up the bed, situating himself between Louis’ legs and bracing himself high enough that he wouldn’t put too much weight on him or the baby.

“I’m so lucky,” Harry said quietly, trailing his lips across Louis’ cheeks. “Do you know why I’m lucky, baby?”

“No,” Louis said, letting his fingers trail up Harry’s arms and back down, when they hit his sleeves.

“I’m lucky,” Harry said, and kissed down Louis’ neck, “because I get to come home, almost every night, to you.” Louis blushed pink all the way down to his chest, and Harry started pressing open-mouthed kisses around Louis’ chest, avoiding his nipples until he spoke. “I have such a beautiful boy to care about me, to care about, and he even is letting a _baby_ grow in his body for me. That’s how much he cares. Aren’t I a lucky man?”

Louis squeaked and squirmed a little when Harry started sucking at his nipple, but Harry just shushed at him soothingly, running a hand up and down Louis’ side to keep him still. “Aren’t I lucky?” He repeated, kissing up and down Louis’ breastbone.

“I – I guess so, Daddy,” Louis stammered out, scrunching his nose as he thought over Harry’s words.

“You guess?” Harry asked quietly, and pushed himself up, kissing Louis soundly, swallowing his groans until they needed to breathe. Louis drew a deep breath and started coughing as it tickled his throat, and Harry chuckled and rubbed at his chest until he was okay again. “Do you think I’m lucky, now?” He asked with a smile.

“Yes,” Louis said, licking his lips, where Harry had sucked until they started to swell. “You’re lucky to have that.”

“I have it all in you,” Harry said, wondering if Louis believed what he was agreeing to. “My sweet, good boy. You’re so beautiful.” He started kissing down Louis’ body, adding a compliment between each one. “Beautiful. And smart. Kind. Funny. Loyal. Understanding. So, so protective. Encouraging. _Inspiring_. Louis, you’re so inspiring.” Louis was shivering, toes making popping sounds as he curled and flexed them repeatedly. “You make me want to be things I’ve never known to exist.” Louis was staring up at Harry, mouth slightly parted and swallowing convulsively as Harry caressed his skin.

“What do you think about yourself?” Harry asked him, sitting up on his knees. Before Louis started answering, Harry drew his fingers over the line of Louis’ cock, on its way to being hard.

Louis’ hips jerked, just the tiniest bit, but he stopped them and answered quietly, “I’m – I have nice eyes, you said.”

“Don’t be modest, baby,” Harry chided softly, adding more pressure as he drew his fingers across Louis’ boxers again. “They _are_ nice, though,” he added.

“I’m – pretty attractive,” Louis said next, and Harry grinned encouragingly. “And…I’m smart. Uhm, successful. I’m successful.” Louis took a shaky breath when Harry pulled at the waistband of Louis’ boxers, snapping them back against Louis’ skin. “I’m a good brother. And an alright boyfriend. I’m…kind of good in bed, even though I’m just learning all this – BDSM…stuff.”

“That’s right,” Harry agreed, cutting him off. “You’re such a good boy for Daddy, it’s so impressive. I love having sex with you; it’s always good. You’re so beautiful, I love watching you during sex.”

“’M getting pudgy,” Louis mumbled, his skin bright red under all Harry’s attention. Harry tried not to frown; he wouldn’t punish Louis for having a negative body image. That would only make him feel worse. Harry could only build him up, try to help him gain confidence.

“You’re the most beautiful boy in the world,” he countered, leaning back down to kiss Louis’ lips shut against the protest he was undoubtedly about to give. “You’re the most beautiful person to me, by so, so far. I’m gonna show you tonight, okay?”

Louis nodded hesitantly, and Harry started kissing his temple while his fingers trailed randomly across Louis’ skin. Making their way down Louis’ face, Harry’s lips were chaste and sweet until they found Louis’ lips. Louis kissed Harry like he was desperate and afraid of what would come next, and Harry cupped his face with a hand and tried to pour all the confidence in Louis he had into their kiss, stopping when Louis started rutting up against him and distracting Harry. “Be good,” he said quietly, giving Louis a quick little peck on the lips before moving on, kissing down Louis’ throat and sucking just shy of enough to leave a mark on Louis’ Adam’s apple.

Harry kissed across Louis’ collarbones, sucking rows of tiny little marks that would fade by Monday morning, and then licked over his nipples, loving the way Louis’ hands gripped his hair and held tight, keeping Harry’s face where it was. Harry sucked each one into his mouth and sucked in gentle, pulsing pulls that had Louis’ cock twitching, and Harry chuckled when he had to grab Louis’ wrists and pull his hands from his hair, so he could resume loving Louis’ body.

Yesterday, he had called Gemma and told her he was gay. Not giving her a chance to say anything, he’d blurted out that he had a boyfriend, and that he was also having a baby with him. He told her all about Louis, talking for almost a full hour nonstop and giving her absolutely no chance to give any responses or feedback, until he finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind for months. “But do you think I’m in love with _him_ , or the _idea_ of him?”

As Harry gave kisses to every inch of Louis’ swelling belly, Harry knew Gemma had been right when she’d answered. “ _You very obviously know the answer to that, Harry. Stop_ thinking _about it. It’s happening anyways; you might as well let it be._ ”

Louis tried rolling his hips, and Harry let him, hands roaming all over his body and lips following some instinctive pattern unknown even to his conscious. When he pulled at the waistband of Louis’ boxers, Louis whined and pushed his hips up so Harry could pull them off. Harry did, and then adjusted his own cock, still clothed completely. He kissed the underside of Louis’ hard cock before wrapping his lips around the head of it, relishing the way Louis moaned, louder than he ever did at Harry’s (probably because of the thin walls at his).

Harry sucked Louis’ cock with a new technique, less focus held on himself feeling Louis’ cock weighing heavily over top sensitive nerves in his throat, and more on making sure Louis would never forget how wet and hot and tight and talented Harry’s mouth and throat were. When Louis started squirming and moaning, Harry moved and stood, taking his jeans off and pulling his cock from his briefs that clung tightly to his skin. Without bothering to push them off his legs, Harry stepped out of his jeans and crawled back up onto the bed, looming over Louis and kissing his mouth before settling back down between his legs.

“You’re so incredible, Louis; you’re such a beautiful person. I’m so crazy about you.”

Louis let out a sob when Harry wrapped his lips around his cock again, one hand stroking his own cock and the other bracing himself on the mattress.

“I’m getting close,” Louis gritted out, hips jumping now and then while Harry kept his lips pillowy-soft and let Louis fuck up into his mouth, head of his cock hitting the back of Harry’s throat every once in a while.

“You can come, baby, that’s fine,” Harry said, voice hoarse and rough. He went back to sucking Louis’ cock, staying deep because Louis liked it, and Louis threaded his fingers into Harry’s wild hair and pulled him down, forcing his throat to work double-time to not gag at the surprise intrusion he hadn’t seen coming. Louis groaned, low and quiet, as he came down Harry’s throat, letting Harry up to swallow and then cough, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand and struggling with the fire in his throat.

Louis was mumbling an apology as he reached with his hand to pet comfortingly at Harry’s abs, but Harry just moved his hand out of the way, bending down, and trailed wet, hot kisses all over Louis’ tummy, stroking his cock at the awkward angle his body was bent in and not caring that his back was starting to twinge a little.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, petting at Louis’ chubby sides, where he had really started to gain weight a little rapidly. “I fucking _love_ your body,” he swore, and came straight onto Louis’ stomach, nearly doubling over as he stroked his cock furiously enough that, wildly, he wondered if chafing could actually happen.

Louis groaned when he felt Harry’s come splash onto his skin, but Harry was already licking it up. He scooped some up onto a finger and offered it to Louis, who scrunched his nose but opened his mouth anyway. “If our baby has a taste for come and craves it, or something, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mumbled half-heartedly, and Harry was shocked for a few moments before he let loose his cackling, booming laugh.

They lay in quiet together for a few minutes, getting their breathing and pulses in check, and Harry flopped down to the side of Louis, laying on his side to look at his boyfriend, one protective hand spread over Louis’ swelling stomach, palm down and fingers wide, like he was trying to hold the entire belly with it.

“You need to meet my parents,” Louis said quietly. “And my siblings.” He was silent for a few minutes, Harry having simply nodded; he knew it was true. Finally, Louis stopped chewing his lip and blurted, “Can we go visit them tomorrow? Please?”

Harry frowned. “If Zayn’s uncle will let me take off on such short notice,” he began, and Louis cut him off with a muttered swear word.

“I always forget you have to work on Saturdays,” he said. “What about Sunday? Can we go on Sunday? I can call my parents tomorrow morning, first thing.”

“Will they be ready?” Harry asked a little doubtfully. “I don’t know if the best first impression would be walking in while they’re still trying to, like –”

“No, no, Mom doesn’t give a shit if her house is clean,” Louis said dismissively, and Harry watched, faintly amused, as Louis started getting visibly excited as he looked at Harry hopefully. “Please, can we go Sunday?”

Harry chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, which Louis returned, but huffed impatiently when he didn’t get his answer quickly.

“Of course,” Harry said with a smile. Louis _beamed_.

\---

“Harry, I’m standing here looking at you and telling you that I adore you, and I am genuinely incredibly excited that you’re coming home with me, and I’m glad you care about what my family thinks even though it’s, like, ninety percent for my own benefit than yours, I’m pretty sure, but I might seriously fucking stab you in the neck if you ask me one more time if you should take out your goddamned piercings.”

Louis didn’t even look up from the clothes he was stuffing into his suitcase. Harry had come into Louis’ bedroom to tell him dinner was ready – and, alright, yeah, Harry had asked _a few_ times if Louis thought his family would react a little better with or without piercings and makeup, and, like, sure, Louis’ answer had always been the same (“My parents won’t care, darling; if you want to take them out, you can; if you want to leave them in, you’re basically just saving them a surprise later!”) – but Harry didn’t really think he could be blamed. It wasn’t so much that _he_ cared what Louis’ family thought particularly about him, but Harry knew Louis was close to his family, and if they all hated Harry, well, it might put some strain on all the relationships. Harry didn’t want that. Blood was thicker than…semen.

Harry snapped back to Louis, who was still mumbling about Harry’s persistence, and frowned. “Well, I’ll take my stab-wound-free neck back into the dining room and eat by myself, then,” he retorted, and Louis looked up at him with a smile that turned slightly apologetic, though it was ruined by a laugh immediately following.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, chuckling to himself as he placed one hand on his back and another on his belly – but God, it was like Harry could _watch_ it doubling in size by the minute. Louis’d had to go out and buy completely new jeans while Harry was at work today, nearly in tears when he saw he had reached what women’s maternity jeans labelled “second trimester size” even though he wasn’t even in his third month. He’d even called Dr. Pinnock in hysteria; she’d reminded him calmly what she’d said about male pregnancy moving faster than female. (Harry hadn’t been hysterical. He’d read it all in Dr. Shelley’s book. It had explained the timeline and clearly shown the differences in spans of time regarding the baby’s development inside Louis’ womb, so Harry had been able to learn all about it. There was a graph and everything.) “Baby Thing has given me a short temper today.”

“No,” Harry said firmly, moving towards Louis with a purpose. He sank down to his knees and surrounded Louis’ belly with his hands, giving it a kiss through his shirt and glaring up at Louis reproachfully. “Your name isn’t ‘Baby Thing’, darling,” he said to Louis’ tummy, rubbing it comfortingly. “You’re a beautiful, beautiful child, and we’re so excited; Daddy just can’t make up his mind about our name situation, is all. Don’t worry.”

Louis stared down at Harry in surprise, and then started laughing, scratching at Harry’s scalp to keep him from getting upset. “Harry, is this _seriously_ how you’re trying to get me to choose a name?” He asked. “We haven’t even found out Baby Thing’s gender!”

“The baby’s _sex_ , Louis,” Harry muttered out of habit, but Louis just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Dr. Pinnock said we only have a few more days until we can figure it out, and we’ve got an appointment in, like, a week and a half. I want to be able to _name_ our baby by the time we figure out its sex!” Harry climbed to his knees and took over folding, barely doing a better job than Louis but needing something to do with his hands because the weight of Louis’ gaze was a bit too much at the moment. “I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that,” he snapped obstinately. “A baby’s name is its identity. I’m just saying, you’re not exactly doing Daddy Yoga to calm them down; you could at least give them a kind nickname until you narrow down the decision.”

“Daddy Yoga,” Louis mumbled, rolling his eyes. He let it go, though, and rubbed his tummy. “Sorry, sweet thing,” he murmured, and Harry tried to hide his satisfied grin. “Daddy and Grumpster will – ”

“ _Grumpster_?” Harry asked, not as outraged as his voice made him sound.

Louis grinned devilishly. “Like it?” He asked, flicking Harry’s elbow next to him. “It’s a mix of ‘grumpy hipster’. We can’t _both_ have ‘Daddy’, so I figured I’d let you have a descriptive, instead! ‘Papa’ is _so_ Jamestown Colony. Next, Sweet Thing will be dumping all our teabags into the bathtub.”

Harry snorted, but he shook his head. “I’m not a hipster,” he said. He let grumpy slide, because, well. “I’m not a hipster. I’m not having our child call me Grumpster. It’s a no from me.”

“How about ‘Papi’?” Louis “innocently” asked, eyes too wide to be sincere. Harry watched him, not entirely sure where he was taking it until he jutted out a hip and started patting the side of his head. “I luh ya, Papi. I luh ya, luh ya, luh ya, Papi,” he started singing, and Harry instantly wanted to put his fist through a wall.

“That stupid song’s going to be in my head for-fucking _-ever_ , you asshole!” He wailed, and stomped out of the door, slamming it behind him to block the sound of Louis’ hysterical laughter. “I told you I hated that song because I wanted you to stop putting it on in the car!” Harry shouted through the suite, sitting down in front of the TV and watching it as he ate his own dinner alone, gritting his teeth as he tried desperately to think of lyrics that didn’t coincide at all with the new JLo song. He was failing.

Finally, Harry got out his laptop and searched alternatives to ‘Dad’. Searching through different language, Google was, once again, his friend, and he made his computer talk as he highlighted different words, so he could hear how they were meant to sound. When he scrolled over one word – a Malay word, “Ayah”, Harry let out an involuntary sigh. He highlighted the word and his computer read out, a strange, robotic voice pronouncing, “Eye-yah.”

Harry shut his computer and walked back into Louis’ room with a grin, picking him up and dropping him gently across the clothes Louis had sprawled all over his bed. Louis squawked in surprise, but laughed as he pulled Harry down on top of him. “What’s gotten into you, _Papi_?” He asked, teasingly, and Harry didn’t even bother to glare.

Instead, he nipped at Louis’ bottom lip and kissed him breathless, grinning and pressing their foreheads together when he needed more air. “Ayah,” he said, sighing the word again.

“Ayah?” Louis repeated, confused, but still smiling.

“It’s Malay,” Harry told him, “it means ‘dad’, that way I don’t have to be something stupid. I like it. Plus, it’s all soft sounds, so I think the baby will be able to say it fairly quickly…What do you think?”

Louis smiled. “I think it’s up to you what Baby I- what Sweet Thing calls you,” he corrected himself. “But I like it. _Ayah_.”

Harry kissed him again and then pulled away, dragging Louis up with him. “Come on,” he said, “your dinner’s probably already cold. Also, we’re just going tonight and for tomorrow; why are you packing so many clothes?” He asked, surveying the messy, clothes-filled bed and suitcase Louis was packing. Louis shrugged, blushing, and bit his lip, so Harry came around behind him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ belly and rubbing it, kissing the spot where his shoulder blended up to meet his neck.

Louis sighed and tilted his head to the side to give Harry more room to work with, and finally he said, “I’m getting bigger by the minute. I just want to make sure I have options. Plus, with how hot and cold I get randomly? And I’ve been so nauseous lately; if I throw up, I’m gonna need something else to wear.”

Harry kissed Louis’ neck, once down, and back up. “I think you’re worrying too much,” he concluded, and Louis shot him a glare, awkward head angle and all.

“This coming from the man who’s asked me _seven times_ if he should change his appearance for people who are going to practically be family to him,” he answered drily, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Well, hurry up. We better get a move on if you want to see your parents before I pass out. I’ll go heat your food back up.”

\---

Louis’ family had moved to Schenectady once Louis started traveling with B.E. Smith, not having much of an excuse to stay right in Manhattan, as Louis’ dad, Mark, was receiving more and more offers from Albany, and Louis’ mom, Jay, was a nurse, so she could pretty much get a job anywhere in New York easily.

It was a drive that took nearly three hours, with traffic and Louis’ bladder, and Harry was nearly overwhelmed with new and old information. Naturally, the family man Louis was, Harry had heard plenty about his sisters and brother in the months they’d been together, but most of it had been updates or old stories, rather than basic information. Now, Harry had three hours to get it down.

“Dad – Mark – is a Senior Scientist at GE, he works in Albany. Mom’s at Ellis Hospital, she works with diabetic patients, and stuff. Lottie’s a sophomore, Felicite’s in eighth grade, Daisy and Phoebe are in fourth grade. Doris and Ernest are in kindergarten, now.”

“How am I going to tell them apart?” Harry asked, leg wiggling as he thumbed at his makeup in the sun visor’s mirror.

“Remember what happened last time you were doing that?” Louis asked, and mimed flicking the visor back in a way that would hit Harry in the face.

“I do,” Harry said drily, but moved back and shut the visor, anyway. He got Louis’ point: _stop worrying_.

“Daisy has pierced ears,” Louis answered Harry’s question. “As for Lottie and Felicite, Lottie wears makeup like a prostitute these days; Felicite wouldn’t be caught dead with the stuff on her face. Phoebe’s probably not going to talk to you; she’s way too shy. If you can’t tell Doris and Ernest apart, there’ll be something wrong with you, and I’ll have to question your ability to raise our child. Also, if you can’t tell Mom and Dad apart, I might have to just take you to an eye doctor. Or sit down and have a _really_ awkward conversation with you that your mom should’ve had when you were much, much younger.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless, because it was obvious Louis was only acting obnoxious to make him smile. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically, but he really was glad for the information. Louis continued giving him information about his family until Harry’s head was spinning, and by the time they pulled up to the Tomlinson house, it was completely dark outside, even with the late sunsets.

Nevertheless, the porch light flicked on, giving the place some light, and the door opened and people came spilling out, so Louis squeezed Harry’s hand and hopped out of the car, arms spread wide and yelling loud enough to make Harry glad school was out, or they’d probably get a noise complaint.

The Tomlinsons lived in a relatively small house, given that they lived with six children, but there was a big yard and lots of toys and bikes and scooters leaned up against the driveway and scattered all around the place, as far as Harry could see with the bit of light from the porch. Louis was instantly covered in small humans, and Harry removed himself from the car, grabbing Louis’ bag from the backseat and his own overnight bag, shutting the door and coming around to stand next to Louis.

“Ah, I’ve got monsters on me! Help, help!” Louis was shouting, pretending to let the kids overpower him and he shielded his stomach as he pretended to be flung against the car, all the kids giggling loudly and hugging him.

“Louis, your tummy’s so fat!” One of the girls chirped, and Harry braced himself for a Louis meltdown, but none came.

“Yeah?” Louis asked, ruffling the girl’s hair. “You should’ve seen Mom when she was pregnant with you. Big as a house, I swear!”

There was a snort from the front door, and Harry looked up to see a woman whose faced matched every single child in the front yard – _no DNA test needed for them_ , Harry thought to himself – and she was surveying the scene with a happy smile, her head rested on the chest of a much taller man, whose height was obviously given to his own biological children. Harry vaguely remembered Louis saying that Mark was technically his stepfather, though he’d been around since Louis was a baby and raised him as his own, which would explain Louis’ being 5’9, while his sisters were already near catching up to him.

“Come on back into the house, kids, leave Louis alone,” the woman – Jay, of course – called, loud and brooking no back-talk.

The kids all gave Louis kisses, but they trudged back into the house, while Jay and Mark came on out. Louis hugged his mom, tight around the neck but giving plenty of space between their stomachs, and she smiled brightly at Louis’ belly and patted it gently when they separated. “You’re getting so big!” She said joyously, but Mark was already moving in and hugging Louis just as tight and sweetly as Jay had, even kissing Louis’ hair while they were embracing, which caught Harry off guard a bit, but Louis didn’t seem like it was out of the ordinary at all, mumbling, “Hi, Dad,” to him happily.

“Momma, Dad, this is Harry,” Louis presented once he stepped back, and he grabbed Harry’s free hand and pulled him forward.

Harry set down his overnight bag and moved forward with a hand outstretched, ready to be polite for Louis and shake Jay and Mark’s hands, but they were having none of it.

Mark pulled Harry into a hug – thankfully less intimate as the one he’d given Louis – with a manly shoulder-clap and a friendly nod. “Hi, Harry, I’m Mark,” he said. “Thanks for knocking Louis, here, up!” He said, and Harry’s eyes widened a bit.

Before he could figure out what to say, though, Harry’s face was being pulled toward Jay, her hands touching briefly across his piercings, where she could see the porch light reflecting off the metal. “Goodness, _gracious_ ,” she murmured in fascination, “you’ve got a lot of piercings. This is incredible! How bad did they hurt?”

Harry’s cheeks were actually being squeezed together, and he started feeling uncomfortable when Louis cut in, slapping his mom’s hands away and giving Harry a deeply apologetic look. “I forgot to tell you, we’re a touchy family,” he explained, and then raised voice into a reproachful tone, as he faced his parents, “but my mom and dad promised they would be on their best behaviors, so it slipped my mind.”

Jay had the decency to look a little properly scolded, but Mark shrugged. “Aw, hell, I was just joshing with him,” he maintained, and Harry, despite himself, had to laugh. How _northern_ a phrase.

“Harry’s not a really touchy person,” Louis explained, threading their pinkies together. “Anyway, now you’ve met him, but we’ve driven for three hours and it’s nighttime, so I’ll just take him to the spare bedroom –”

“Hold on, now,” Jay said as Louis started pulling Harry towards the house. “Where do you think you’re going together?” She asked. “You’re not sleeping in the same bedroom!”

Harry was tempted to point out that Louis was already pregnant, so they couldn’t exactly do much damage (even if they _were_ going to have sex, which they definitely weren’t), but Jay and Louis were already laughing, snorting at something, and Louis pecked her cheek and kept pulling Harry.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Jay called as she watched Louis drag Harry onward.

“Oh, uhm, you, too!” Harry said, forcing a smile as he followed Louis into the house.

The kids had apparently been waiting right inside the front door, and Louis didn’t look surprised, so he figured it must be a common occurrence to listen in, so he simply smiled as they all crowded Louis. Ernest, easily identifiable as he was the only other boy in the room, jumped onto Louis’ leg and held on tight, looking like he was near tears. The older girls hugged Louis and then stepped back, watching with smiled as the younger ones all took their time loving on Louis, as well. Harry hadn’t even realized one was missing until he felt a tug at his jeans.

He looked down and saw a young girl of about eight or nine – she had earrings, Harry checked, which would make her Daisy, if he remembered correctly. “Hi,” Harry said, a little cautiously. He’d had _no_ exposure to children, and suddenly felt all his inexperience.

“Hi,” the girl chirped back. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, handing a hand. She shook it importantly, face all serious for about two seconds, before she smiled and revealed two missing teeth. “I’m Louis’ boyfriend. Are you…Daisy?”

Daisy grinned hugely and nodded, and suddenly, she jumped and wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist, hugging him tight and nuzzling her cheek awkwardly close to Harry’s belt. _That_ would be something to get used to.

Harry patted her head awkwardly, and then took a chance and scratched his fingers gently through her ridiculously thin blonde hair, knowing he and Louis both enjoyed it. She smiled and nuzzled closer to the touch, so Harry assumed he was doing well.

“Are you happy to see Louis again?” He wondered aloud, and Daisy nodded, looking up at Harry.

“Yeah, very,” she said emphatically. “He used to come every weekend, almost, so it’s weird to not see him. Mom says you’re important to Louis, too, though, so he has to stay home with you lots, too.”

Harry frowned. “I didn’t realize he used to come home so often,” he mused. “I’ll try to get him to come see you guys more, okay? I’m sorry I’ve been taking up all his time.” He wasn’t, particularly. He didn’t get what the big deal was. He’d gone without seeing his big sister for months, and _they_ were best friends.

Nevertheless, Daisy beamed up at him, but shrugged. “It’s okay,” she said through a smirk. “You’re really handsome, so it’s okay for Louis to spend lots of time with you. Plus, you’re having a baby, so you have to get ready. Doris and Ernest cried a _lot_. You have to work on a battle plan.”

“Uh, thanks,” Harry said wryly. “We’ll get right on that, I’m sure.”

Daisy smiled at Harry, her missing teeth making her look like those _Wanted Dead or Alive_ posters for criminals Harry used to see in old cartoons as a kid. He smiled back at her, and she let go of him and turned around, crouching down and launching herself onto Louis’ back. Louis stumbled a bit, but kept his footing, and smiled as he turned around to Harry.

“Guys, girls and Ernie,” he said loudly, clapping his hands. “I want you all to meet Harry, my boyfriend.” Suddenly, there were seven pairs of eyes on him – nine, Harry corrected himself once he heard the screen door slam shut and knew Louis’ parents were back in the house and watching the scene. “He’s got a really small family, and he’s the youngest in it, so try not to overwhelm him, alright?” Louis was requesting.

There was silence in the house for about five minutes, but then the littlest girl – Doris, Harry was pretty sure – jumped, her hands spread out in the air, and shouted, “He likes makeup!”

Harry’s eyes widened, but Louis laughed and scooted in front of Harry protectively, holding his arms out in front of him to stop the kids from running at Harry. “What did I _just say_?” Louis cried out, laughing in exasperation. “We can talk about makeovers in the morning, okay? But me and Harry are both really tired. Harry got off work and we drove straight here, so –”

“You work?” One of the older girls asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “On a _Saturday_?”

“Are you a nurse, like Mommy?” Doris asked, and Harry snorted.

“Uh, no, I’m not a nurse,” he said. “I’m –” Harry cut himself off and looked at Louis’ parents, unsure if they would appreciate him telling their children he was responsible for ink on thousands of people, by now. He spotted traces of an old, slightly-worn tattoo on Mark’s shoulder, though, and thought that was as good of an indicator as he was going to get, judging by the blank and expectant looks on their faces. “I’m a tattoo artist,” Harry said. “And a singer.” He could leave out bartending.

Most of the kids thought it was incredible, though Harry thought probably the youngest twins didn’t really understand what he meant. Harry pushed back the sleeves of his hoodie – it really _was_ too hot to wear a hoodie, but Harry hadn’t wanted to shock Louis’ parents too badly – and squatted down so they could see the tattoos on his sleeves. “I make things like these,” he explained awkwardly, unsure of how to talk to the kids. “And I put them on people’s skin, if they want.”

“Have you given Lou any tattoos?” One of the older girls asked, grinning devilishly, and Harry noticed she was wearing more makeup than he was – Lottie, then.

“No,” Louis said, batting at her playfully. “Harry’s got _loads_ , though, and his best friend Zayn, too.”

The kids all stared at Harry, their eyes roaming all over him, and Doris frowned, reaching up and touching Harry’s nostril ring. “Did you miss your ears?” She asked, confused, looking at the several rings through Harry’s face.

Harry was shocked into laughter, and Louis stooped down just enough to ruffle her hair. “It’s called a nose ring, girly,” he said affectionately. “Lots of people have those.”

“Alright, you can ask Harry more questions tomorrow,” Jay called out suddenly, making Harry nearly fall over in his squat. “For now, I think it’s bed time for them, and for all of you!”

The kids all groaned, but said goodnight, trailing past Louis for kisses and hugs, and Harry had to smile when Daisy and Doris both came for hugs. Doris gave the corner of Harry’s mouth a little kiss, her lips wet as if she’d licked them just before. Harry hugged her back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand once she was walking away, so she wouldn’t see.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Jay said quietly, her voice warm and polite.

“Oh – night, thank you for having us over in such short notice,” Harry said.

“Oh, please,” Jay said dismissively, and with one last yank, Louis tugged Harry up the stairs.

“So _polite_ ,” Louis teased as he opened the door to the guest bedroom, dropping his back by the bed and immediately taking his clothes off, clearly exhausted. Out of sight of his sisters, Louis looked ten times more tired than he had once they pulled up, and Harry wondered how often he pretended for their sakes, even if it wasn’t a big deal – a pregnant person tired late at night after a long drive surely was normal. “One might think you were raised in good manners,” Louis continued, and Harry mock-scowled as he pulled his hoodie from his chest.

“Watch it,” he said, false warning in his voice. “You’re insulting my mother, there.” He crossed his eyes at Louis and smiled, leaning forward to kiss Louis’ lips. “Go to bed,” he said, continuing to undress and laughing when Louis flopped down on the full mattress.

Since they’d started the car, Harry hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the conversation they’d had one day at their café during Harry’s lunch break, Louis worrying if Harry would be able to get along with his family. Admittedly, the way Louis had carried on made _Harry_ worry, and he’d come up with random things to say politely, planning out entire conversations with family members and hoping like hell they’d follow the script and like him so Louis wouldn’t melt down. Harry knew Louis wouldn’t be able to be with someone his family didn’t like for a long-term relationship, and he also knew their child deserved an extended family that got along with each other.

Getting into bed, Harry lay still while Louis fidgeted around, getting irritated as he struggled to get comfortable. Suddenly, he was caught off guard when Louis moved half on top of him and started rolling their hips, giving kisses to Harry’s jaw. The bed squeaked under their weight.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry hissed, squeezing his boyfriend’s hip as the mattress continued making sounds underneath Louis’ ministrations. Louis hummed in response but kept sucking at Harry’s neck. “Louis, stop it. What are you doing?”

Louis hummed again, and Harry hissed as he felt Louis’ teeth against his skin. “Getting my way,” Louis whispered, smiling smugly as he grinded his hips against Harry’s and felt the erection Harry was starting to grow. “What’s the matter, Daddy?” Louis continued, a little breathless already. “Don’t you want to fuck me in the spare bedroom of my parents’ house? Don’t you want to be naughty, even a little?”

“No,” Harry lied through his teeth. “We’re not doing this here.”

“Where, then?” Louis whined.

Harry gripped Louis’ hips tighter and frowned at him. “Louis, we’re not fucking in your parents’ house the first time I meet them,” he said firmly. “I don’t even know them. We’re _definitely_ not _playing_ in a place where we can be interrupted.”

Instead of whining, like Harry had expected, Louis grinned slowly. “…So, maybe we can have sex the _second_ time?” He asked slyly, devil in his eyes. Harry groaned, but laughed, and pulled Louis close to kiss his forehead.

“We’ll see,” he promised diplomatically, smiling indulgently when Louis whisper-shouted a triumphant, ‘ _yes_!’ harry rolled his eyes and kissed Louis gently, not wanting it to lead anywhere. “Go to sleep,” he said. “Goodnight, Louis.”

Louis hummed and then began the never-ending struggle to get comfortable again. “Night, sleep tight,” he shuffled as he pushed at pillows and pulled at Harry, pulling him down closer and resting against the curve of Harry’s arm and shoulder. “You should get your nipples pierced,” he said idly, rubbing at Harry’s chest over his shirt. “They’re so sensitive and pretty.” Harry laughed out of shock.

“You’re the one who’s two weeks from lactating,” Harry said, reciting the fact from Dr. Shelley’s book thoughtlessly.

Louis shifted and stopped rubbing Harry’s chest. “What?” He asked, looking at Harry, confused. “How do you know that? Why didn’t Dr. Pinnock tell _me_ that?”

Harry scrunched his nose and cringed inwardly, but he was already caught; he wasn’t going down like a coward. “She didn’t tell me,” he admitted. Louis stared at Harry expectantly, so Harry sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed towards his bag. He rifled through it and pulled out the book, giving it to Louis.

Louis ran his fingers over the slightly-raised title and Dr. Shelley’s name, over the faces of the men on the cover and flipped the book over, looking at the critic raves, and flipped the book open to read the inside flaps for a description. “What is this?” He asked, though it was right in front of him.

“Dr. Shelley’s an obstetrician, he specializes in male pregnancies. He has three kids, I think – yeah, three of ‘em. I got it because you kept having those heartburns and I wanted to help so I needed advice to figure out how to help, but I didn’t want to actually call and _ask_ anyone, so I went to this store Gems always goes to when she visits Manhattan., and the lady said this one was special. Dr. Shelley and his husband are friends of hers, so she wanted to give it to me. I dunno, I guess she thought I looked like I needed it,” he laughed awkward when Louis said nothing.

Suddenly, Louis started sniffling, making Harry’s eyes snap up in alarm, and Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ body. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said awkwardly, guessing at things Louis could _possibly_ feel bad enough to cry about. “It was a little embarrassing that I didn’t know anything and needed a book, and I figured if I told you, you’d give me shit about cracking open a book when I don’t even like to read.”

Louis shook his head where it was squished against Harry’s chest and then leaned out of Harry’s embrace, surging up and kissing him. bewildered but content with the change in reaction, Harry kissed him back, rubbing Louis’ lower back with the knuckles of one hand while he tossed the book back towards his bag on the floor, returning passion with passion. Louis was still crying as he kissed Harry, though, and he sobbed through his nose, sending snot onto their skin in the most disgusting sounding _and_ disgusting feeling sob ever. Harry jumped back and rubbed his cheek free of snot, laughing while Louis did the same. “Sorry,” he said with a watery chuckle.

“That’s okay,” Harry said, trying not to sound too obviously disgusted. “Why were you crying?” He asked, when Louis wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“It’s so sweet,” Louis said, voice going high, and Harry never would have believed all that joking about being overemotional when you’re pregnant, but here it was in H.D., real-life proof. “You don’t even like reading but you’ve been reading books all this time to help me and our baby, and stuff, Harry, I’m so… _thank you_.”

“I love you,” Harry said gently, like it was a reason, and then froze when Louis did.

Louis started crying again, a big, ugly sound as more snot dripped free from his nose. “You _asshole_!” Louis cried, wiping at his face furiously. “You can’t tell me you love me for the first time ever when I’ve got fucking _snot dripping down my face_ , what’s wrong with you!?”

Harry laughed, then, and just pulled Louis back in closer, ignoring the disgusting bodily fluids happening around Louis’ facial area. They laid back down together, Louis trying to get himself together while Harry just rubbed his back.

“Goodnight, Louis,” Harry whispered when his boyfriend finally settled down, feeling on top of the world because he’d finally said it.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis answered quietly. And then – “I love you, too, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to say it, with all the…tears, and stuff. But I do, a lot.”

Harry kissed Louis’ hair and twisted the fingers of their hand together and drifted off to happy, happy sleep.

\---

Harry woke up to an obnoxious amount of muffled giggling and knocking on the bedroom door. Beside him, Louis mumbled, “Fucking children,” and turned over, smashing his head face-first into the pillow and pulling the blanket up over his head, only leaving an inch or so open for air.

Deciding he’d rather not have to deal with Louis in the mood of a bear all day, Harry edged himself out of the bed and opened the door, glad he’d managed to at least keep his (mostly unused) pajama pants on, though he’d weaseled his way out of his tank top.

When Harry opened the door, he saw Ernest and Doris, and an older twin who, after checking the ears, turned out to be Daisy. Trying not to rub at his eyes, knowing his makeup would be insanely smeared already, Harry blinked down at the small humans and tried to smile, though he could feel how furry his teeth were. “Morning,” he said, voice raspy.

“Harry, it’s _seven o’clock_ ,” Daisy said, a little reproachfully. “That means you have to wake up.”

Had it been anyone else’s siblings, Harry might have throttled the small children for waking him up at seven a.m. on a Sunday. As it were, Harry entertained some quick little fantasies until he said, “I usually don’t wake up until ten or eleven on Sundays.” Doris looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. “I work late into the night,” Harry explained, “so in order to get enough sleep, I have to sleep late into the morning.”

“Well, you’re here, so you have to do it the Tommo way,” Daisy said bossily, and Harry had to snort, because that was _clearly_ a phrase she’d learned from her big brother. “Louis, too,” she added, but Harry shook his head.

“Louis’ got to get a lot of sleep,” he explained, “to grow our baby right. Let’s let him sleep. He’ll wake up soon, I’m sure.”

Harry promised the children he’d be down in a few minutes, and then went to take a shower and do his makeup. He nearly burned the skin off his fucking body in the Tomlinson shower, and nearly blinded his left eye when he slipped on the very small counter where he’d rested his arm to put his eyeliner on. He’d brought his more conservative clothes, much to Louis’ annoyance (“Babe, you might as well go all-out the first time, or else they’ll just be confused as to why you keep getting more and more...bad-ass, _whatever_ you call it, each time they see you!”), and he dressed in them and tied his headscarf into place quickly, bringing his dirty clothes back into the guest bedroom and then crept downstairs so he didn’t wake Louis up.

All the kids were waiting downstairs, Mark and Jay sitting together in an oversized chair that reclined, the kids on other furniture or on the floor. “Good morning, Harry,” the Tomlinsons all said at once, catching him off guard and making him jump.

“Oh, uh, morning,” Harry said awkwardly.

They all stared at each other for a moment, until the awkwardness started to suffocate Harry, and then Daisy chose to ask, “Can you put makeup on me today, Harry?”

Harry looked worriedly to Mark and Jay, who only looked bemused. “Uhm, if it’s okay with your parents, I guess,” he said slowly, and watched the adults look at each other.

“Dad?” Jay asked, and Mark shrugged.

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you, Mom,” he answered, and Daisy cheered.

Next to her, another girl slightly smaller than Daisy, without any earrings, moved to whisper into Daisy’s ear. After a moment, Daisy lit up and asked Harry, “Phoebe wants makeup, too. Will you do her?”

“Uh, sure,” Harry said, trying his best to smile, only to remember he probably looked terrifying to them, at least a little bit. Phoebe looked at him, finally, though, and smiled tentatively at him, and Doris started gasping. “I’ll do your makeup, too, if you want,” Harry said preemptively.

The smallest girl only smiled, though, and said, “No, I don’t like makeup, like Felicite. It looks handsome on you but I don’t want any, thank you. But Louis never does makeup with them, ‘cause he doesn’t like it!”

Harry grinned, remembering the day Louis had let Harry put makeup on him in the bathroom. “I bet he’s just scared you’ll know how bad he is at putting makeup on if he does it,” he joked to Doris, who giggled, covering her entire mouth. “Should I go get my makeup _now_ , or…?” Harry trailed off. In his parents’ house, nobody did _anything_ until they’d eaten breakfast. It was the most important meal, even more important than dinner, in their family, and if anyone was visiting during breakfast, it was really important to Anne and Robin that they all eat together first thing in the morning.

Jay didn’t seem to feel the same way, though, because she just shrugged. Mark laughed. “If you think you can handle squealing, wiggly girls before coffee, you go ahead, my friend.”

Harry just forced a smile and grabbed his makeup bag, glad he was too lazy to sort it out, because he still had the lighter colors Gemma always left “on accident” when she visited, which would be tolerable for young girls. Harry didn’t think Louis’ parents would appreciate him making their daughters look like low-class hookers on their first morning together.

Daisy went first, sitting down on the floor and crossing her legs, so Harry sat down, too, grunting as his tight jeans strained against the position. She chatted Harry’s ear off, much like some of the people Harry tattooed, and Harry was able to get away with minimal interaction, though he thought he was doing okay, because she was smiling. Harry put one of the lighter purples on her lids and glanced at Mark and Jay in question when he brought out the liquid eyeliner, since he never used it and didn’t want to risk pink eye from sharing makeup. They didn’t react, so Harry told Daisy to keep her eyes closed and stay very, very still. He went for just straight, clean lines, but it was fucking liquid eyeliner, so it was difficult, and it ended up a lot thicker than he’d intended in order for it to be clean and even. Regardless, Daisy loved it once Harry was finished and she ran to go check it in the bathroom mirror, running back and hugging Harry, not seeming to notice his slightly awkward reaction to it.

Kids weren’t too bad, Harry decided. They were a lot like Niall, in the way that they didn’t really care if you had shitty social skills; they just wanted your attention either way. And kids like Daisy and Doris, who weren’t shy in the least and were both fairly affectionate, wanted hugs all the time and didn’t care if you didn’t hug back immediately.

Phoebe’s turn was next, and Doris made Harry’s life a little more difficult when she plopped down in Harry’s lap and rested her head against Harry’s chest, making him have to reach awkwardly around her to get to Phoebe’s face.

“What color do you want?” Harry asked her, and she blushed but pointed to the darker red Harry used pretty much every other weekend for shows; it was a really bad ass color when it was put on certain ways.

“Lou-Lou showed us a picture of you,” she nearly whispered, “after your show. Can you make me look like you?”

Harry glanced back at Louis’ parents, but they weren’t paying attention, and shrugged. If they weren’t watching Harry with their kids, they clearly didn’t care what he did with their faces. Plus, there was obviously a reason Louis wasn’t bothered with Harry’s appearance. “Sure,” he said, and Phoebe blushed again and scooted closer to him, their knees touching.

“Thanks,” she whispered. Harry didn’t answer, just grabbing his red and starting to smear the powder on with his index finger.

Finally, Harry asked, “When did Louis show you a picture of me, Phoebe?”

Phoebe kept her eyes closed, but Harry saw the blush on her face even from being addressed. Doris spoke up first, though, craning her head back to look up at Harry’s face. “When he came back last week,” she piped up, and, right. When Louis got upset, he came home. Harry hadn’t even thought about that. “He was frowny a lot,” Doris added, a frown covering her own face. She brightened up, soon, though, chirping, “But he showed us lots of pitchers!”

“Pictures, Dory,” Felicite corrected absently, catching Harry off guard. He’d thought she was absorbed in her book, since she hadn’t looked up since greeting Harry when he walked in.

“Pictures,” Doris said, frowning as she still mispronounced the word slightly. “Lou-Lou showed us lots of them of you. I think he thinks you’re pretty,” she whispered loudly, cupping her hand around her mouth the wrong way. Harry smiled despite himself.

“I think he’s pretty, too,” he answered, and Doris squirmed excitedly on Harry’s lap.

“I’m gonna go tell him!” She shouted, jumping up (and frogging Harry’s thigh) and shooting off like a rocket towards the guest room before he could stop her.

“Dory’s not a good secret-keeper,” Phoebe muttered quietly, and Harry laughed loudly in her face, slapping a hand over his mouth when everyone else looked up at him, startled by the explosion of sound, and laughed at him.

“You have a funny laugh,” Ernest said, coming over and sitting next to Phoebe, placing a hand over her knee and stroking it. Kids were weird.

Harry continued smoothing the red over Phoebe’s skin and said, “I know. Louis tries to be really funny and make me laugh like that a lot.”

“Harry, how come you have so many tattoos?” Daisy asked suddenly.

Lottie popped her on the head with her magazine. “He’s a tattoo artist, dummy,” she said, laughing, and Daisy frowned.

“Is it a rule to have lots of tattoos if you’re a tattoo artist?”

“No,” Harry answered with a peaceful smile. “I get tattoos because I like them, and I like how they look. Sort of how maybe you like the way you look with your hair down, or up in a braid, or when you wear a dress, or something.”

“So, it’s because you want to look hot?” Daisy asked, and Lottie popped her on the head with the magazine again.

“That’s Louis’ boyfriend,” she scolded, though her face was a little pink. “Plus, you’re too young. You’re not allowed to think he’s hot.”

Harry snorted, though he wasn’t sure what to say back to that.

“Let her think he’s hot,” Felicite argued, while Mark started laughing. “As long as she knows she’s too young, I’m sure Harry’s not offended by it, or anything. Are you?” She asked, a bit of challenge in her eyes when she looked over at Harry, sitting on the floor.

Harry floundered for something to say, but everyone was looking at him. “Look, I’m just the one putting makeup on,” he babbled, and Phoebe giggled. Harry found the sound very pleasant.

“Girls, leave Harry alone,” Jay said mercifully, chuckling. “Remember what Lou said: he’s not used to lots of kids. We don’t wanna scare him off, do we?” Ernest promptly roared like a lion, right in Harry’s ear, apparently attempting to “scare him off”.

Another roar immediately followed, a girly, giggly shriek coming after, and Doris came running around the corner, practically diving into Harry’s lap. “Save me, Harry! Save me!”

“ _Here comes the Tickle Monster_!” Louis growled, and stomped around the corner while all the girls and Ernest scattered, shrieking and hiding in various places, leaving Harry the only one in the floor, makeup strewn all over the carpet. Louis’ hair was still mussed up, a low-cut tank top very obviously carelessly thrown on and bending over Louis’ belly, and his hands were spread open into makeshift claws, clenching and opening wide around air. Louis exaggeratedly looked around the room, where girls were unsuccessfully hiding, toes peeking out underneath curtains and hair peeking out behind furniture, fingers gripping onto legs of the piano in the corner.

When Louis’ eyes, wide and crazed, locked onto Harry, he growled and started coming towards Harry, the younger girls shrieking. Harry started laughing, protesting loudly that Louis wasn’t allowed to get him, and out of nowhere, little Phoebe ran out to Harry, grabbing his hand, and started pulling at it, trying to get him to hurry.

Harry heaved himself up and started running where Phoebe led, but Louis was too quick and grabbed Harry around the sides of his ribcage, tickling him and making him fall to the ground on his butt, laughing and pushing Louis away as best as he could without being too rough on his belly.

“Mercy! Mercy!” Harry cried through his laughter as Louis kept tickling, but Louis didn’t stop, and Phoebe shouted, “You have to say ‘Lou-Lou’s the best’!”

“Lou-Lou’s the best!” Harry laughed, and immediately, the tickling stopped. Harry clutched at his sides protectively, laughter dying out slowly, and Louis huffed a sigh and collapsed down on Harry’s chest, right there in front of everyone.

“Tickle Monster’s out of shape,” he said exhaustedly.

“Tickle Monster’s also up about two hours earlier than usual,” Jay said from the couch, where she and Mark had watched the entire scene. Louis glanced up at the clock, which read that it was just past eight in the morning, and groaned, pushing himself up off of Harry and sitting down on the floor next to him.

When Harry pushed himself up, Louis leaned in with a smile. “Good morning,” he said, and kissed Harry, breath still sour and skin smelling like pillows with Febreeze on them.

“Hi,” Harry answered, glancing around to see that Louis’ family had all moved back onto furniture, save Phoebe, who was standing uncertainly by the makeup, glancing between the bag on the floor and Louis and Harry, a few feet away. “Ready to finish up?” Harry asked, and Phoebe grinned, her entire face lighting up and making her look like an entirely different child. She nodded, so Harry let Louis kiss his cheek and scooted back over towards her. “Thanks for waiting,” he told her quietly, and she just closed her eyes and smiled when she felt Harry continuing with her makeup.

He used his pencil eyeliner, deciding he could just go out and buy a new one if one of them ended up with pink eye, or something, and struggled again with mascara, like he’d done with Daisy – it was hard to make a child stop blinking when a giant stick neared their eyeball – and when he was finished, Phoebe thanked him quietly before slowly making her way to the bathroom. When she came back, Harry was cleaning up, and she thanked him again, hesitantly leaning down to hug him. Harry hugged her back, a warm, happy feeling spreading to his stomach, and she made her way over to sit by her twin.

Harry was still on the floor, leaning against the couch, Doris’ toes touching his shoulder over and over again, but he didn’t want to be rude by moving away even though it was irritating as sin, when Louis came back in, freshly showered and teeth (thankfully) brushed. “The pregnant man needs food,” he complained loudly, and Harry got up to make them some breakfast, but Jay stood, as well.

“Finally,” she complained. “We’ve been waiting on you this whole time! Kids, let’s go, get your shoes on.”

The kids all cheered, and Harry was nearly knocked over when four children shot past him and Louis, the older two girls walking calmly and yelling at the younger four to slow down. Harry and Louis looked at each other.

“I didn’t know you guys were waiting on me,” Louis defended himself.

“Neither did I,” Harry laughed, and he hopped back up the stairs to grab their wallets and phones while Louis fought his way to their shoes in the entrance hall, crowded with children trying to find matching shoes for themselves.

\---

Breakfast was a little strange for Harry.

For one, they’d gone to Cracker Barrel, which was ridiculously crowded, being a Sunday morning. They’d also had to ask for a table for ten, which had meant waiting for nearly half an hour in a restaurant filled with delicious-smelling food, and Louis was cranky, which transferred to the kids – especially Ernest, who clearly idolized Louis.

For another, once enough tables had opened up, there’d been an all-out blood bath over who would sit next to Louis and Harry. Ernest screamed at a pitch more suitable for dogs and bats, and it was decided then and there that he would sit next to Louis. Once his spot was promised, his screaming and tears stopped immediately, and he smirked and chose his spot, the waitress watching on with growing terror.

Harry looked at Jay as he sat down, but she didn’t look upset at all. Instead, she was rolling her eyes. “He’s Louis…twenty years younger,” she said when she caught Harry’s eye.

Harry tried not to snort, but Louis was already dissolved in quiet laughter two seats down. Doris sat down between Ernest and Harry after a breath-holding match that turned Doris’ face a nasty reddish purple, and, to Harry’s surprise, Phoebe sat down on Harry’s right, Daisy directly across from her, after a fiercely-whispered conversation that somehow seemed even more intense than anything else. The older twins both were still in full makeup, Harry right along with them, and they were getting a few stares in the restaurant already.

Harry was sitting directly across from Mark, Daisy on one side and Lottie on the other, Jay next to Lottie and Felicite at the head of the table.

Harry was used to relatively quiet, though very fun, meals with his family, with Gemma being the most talkative by far. It was often Gemma who provided conversation in the first place, with Harry and Robin’s contentedness with quiet and Anne not knowing _what_ to say, but with the Tomlinsons, barely any of them had chances to get words in edgewise. Felicite was quietly _hilarious_ , in a way so reminiscent of Zayn that Harry almost wanted them to meet, though it would certainly be awkward as hell if that happened. Lottie was incredibly intelligent, but she seemed a little embarrassed of the fact, because whenever she would slip up and ingeniously retort to Louis’ light hearted jabs about grades or her being a dumb blonde, she would blush when she realized it and fall quiet for a few minutes. Harry wanted to find out who taught her girls shouldn’t be too smart and wring their neck.

“So, uhm, Harry, where did you go to college?” Lottie asked after a tease from Louis and Felicite about her devotion to makeup, rather than her GPA. It wasn’t a deflection as such; Harry got the feeling she was actually curious, but he grinned a little wryly.

“Well, I took a little time at Hunter College, for media studies…but, uh, I didn’t stay very long. Actually, I only stayed about three semesters. I liked college, but it wasn’t for me.” Harry shrugged like it didn’t bother him that he wasn’t too smart, talking to a group whose parents were professionals in medicine and science and whose older brother was a corporate leader and graduated in the top fifteen of his class at an Ivy League university.

Lottie was quiet for a moment as she chewed her breakfast and eyed Harry speculatively. “College isn’t for everyone,” she said finally, and Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that. “At least you gave it a try. Felicite thinks she doesn’t have to go to college if she’s got a good enough portfolio for her photography; I think she should keep learning to better her chances at a professional career.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, not sure what to say to that and glad, for once, that the noise factor prevented Felicite, all the way down at the other end of the table, from hearing.

“College was great,” he said finally, slowly, “and depending on her talent, school could help her, but it also might hinder her. If she’s really good and individual without a lot of fundamental learning, she might get messed up with all the foundational stuff.” Harry shrugged pensively. “I encourage college, but, like I said, it’s not for everyone. Plus, she’s young, still. She’s got a lot of time to decide whether she wants college or not, and plenty of time to change her dream career twenty times over.”

Lottie stared at Harry some more before she nodded, apparently in vague agreement.

“Why’d you drop out, Harry?” Mark asked. “You seem like a smart guy.”

Harry laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck, smearing a bit of syrup into his hair with a grimace. “I’m not, particularly,” he admitted. “I did alright, but school was kind of…rough for me for a while when I was a kid, and it kind of gave a lasting impression, I guess. My best friend’s uncle had another opening as an apprentice, and I’d just started a little cover band with my other best friend and his cousin and we were making money, so I did both and started succeeding a little more happily that way than I was in school.” Harry made himself shrug and tried to steer the topic away a little. “I think it’s great, what Louis did – Ivy League, nice, good, challenging career with insane benefits and good money and fun for him, but I wouldn’t have been happy. I’m glad he is, but that life is a bit too…constricting for me. I don’t really like that much order for my personal day-to-day work life. Louis does, though, and that’s what matters for him.”

“Happy wife, happy life,” Mark said, and then paused as if he realized that Louis wasn’t Harry’s wife for a multitude of reasons, and then waved his fork in the air, swatting those considerations away as if they didn’t matter. “Glad you seem to have learned that principle quickly. Louis seems to be happy with you and your career choices, and you both seem like you’re doing alright, financially, so.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel like he just passed the Dad Test, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Harry should give me a tattoo,” Doris piped up out of nowhere, and Ernest banged on the table excitedly and shouted affirmatives. Even Felicite seemed interested, and Lottie sat up a little straight and mumbling something about an infinity symbol.

“I could do that, later,” Harry said.

“With a marker, obviously,” Louis cut in, grinning at Harry and winking. “No needles for any of you – not now, not ever.”

“Harry, are you a boy?” Ernest asked once the kids all calmed down from Louis’ remark.

Harry let out a startled laugh, short and solitary. “Uhm, yeah, I’m a boy,” Harry answered, frowning in confusion.

“How come you wear makeup?” The boy asked, then.

“Uh…” Harry floundered for a minute until he finally said, “It makes me feel cool.”

“Can’t you just wear cool shoes?” Ernest asked, hiking his legs up to show Harry the Avengers light-up shoes he was sporting.

“Wow, I need some of those,” Harry said. “Where’d you get those?”

“Target,” Ernest replied proudly, no idea that Harry didn’t actually care. “I got them because I got ‘Excellent’ on my handwriting for the last progress report in school on my handwriting,” he boasted.

“Good job, man!” Louis exclaimed, giving Ernest a fist bump that turned into a firecracker, one finger gliding up in the air and then exploded, shaking spirit fingers all the way back down – complete with sound effects.

“I didn’t get ‘Excellent’,” Doris said, frowning. “But Mommy said that was okay, because I got ‘Except-Exseptival Progress’.”

“Exceptional,” Mark corrected gently.

“Yeah, that,” Doris said, waving at Mark and turning eager, affirmation-seeking eyes up to Harry, who faltered.

“Oh, uh, good – good job, Doris. That’s really great. Progress is a good thing, you should be proud of yourself.”

“When’d you get your lip piercings?” Lottie asked suddenly, mercifully distracting Harry.

“Uhm, I got them after my belly ring…” Harry mumbled, trying to do the math.

“You have a _belly_ ring?”

“No, no, not anymore,” Harry said dismissively, grimacing as he remembered when it snagged in a fairly rough bout of sex. It had totally ruined the mood. “I think I got them…about two years ago? Something like that.”

The rest of breakfast went like that, Harry being asked question after question. Lottie saved Harry from awkward moments a number of times, and Louis had brushed his fingers against the back of Harry’s neck every time he’d gone to the bathroom. On the way back, Louis let Lottie switch cars so he could ride back with Ernest, who hadn’t let go of Louis yet, and Lottie sat in the front seat of Louis’ car on the way back, Daisy and quiet little Phoebe in the backseat.

It was the worst seventeen-minute drive of Harry’s life.

In addition to being terrified of killing Louis’ sisters in a freak car accident, or something, he was subjected to the girls’ ceaseless chatter and loud, shrieking giggles, despite Lottie telling them to quiet down. The car was filled with Lottie’s perfume and the overly-lavender scent of the girls’ shampoo. Lottie hooked her phone up to the car’s stereo, and Harry was forced to listen to far more _Let It Go_ songs than he ever wanted to hear in his life collectively again.

Louis laughed at his expression when they all got out of the car at the Tomlinson’s. Harry dragging behind out of trauma and a migraine beginning to develop, and promised not to leave Harry alone with the girls again if he could help it.

Of course, it was futile, because Louis had the bladder of a two-year-old and restless legs that prompted him to never cease walking.

The older twins went to play softball at the fields at the end of their street with some friends, and Felicite tagged along to supervise, leaving Ernest following Louis’ every move and Doris following Harry’s. More than once, Doris even waited outside the bathroom or bedroom when Harry shut the door behind himself. Harry nearly hit his head on the faucet when he opened the door to the wide-eyed face of a tiny human waiting for him on the other side, smiling up at him.

Despite all the craziness, though, the Tomlinson house was kind of fun. It was definitely the kind of fun Harry would only be able to take in small doses, but it wasn’t bad, at all. Lunch was a similarly-loud affair, with the older twins pouting angrily at being made to stop their game and come home to eat. They scarfed down food, though, and ran back out, making Louis swear to come watch for a few minutes eventually.

Louis played the piano – not very well, but he knew a few songs – and Harry stood behind him, massaging his shoulders. Doris stood on a chair next to Harry so she could massage the shoulders of Ernest, who was sitting on the bench next to Louis.

Finally, Doris coaxed her mom into picking out the markers, and Harry spent the better part of an hour drawing “tattoos” all over the kids. Felicite wanted a tiger on her shoulder, so Harry did his best, trying to remember how he’d done the lion a few days ago, without the mane and adding stripes. Lottie had blushed when she asked Harry to do an infinity symbol on the inside of her wrist.

“I’ll do it, but I want you to think of something else while I do it,” Harry said.

“Why?” Lottie frowned, and Harry stared at her for a few moments.

“What do you want to do when you grow up?” Harry asked her. “Scientist, like your dad? Doctor? Climb the corporate ladder?” Lottie bit her lip. “This might sound really, really awkward,” Hary began, “but I want you to know that intelligence is _so_ hot. Seriously – I’m not just saying that. I would have _killed_ to be as smart as you and Louis when I was growing up. He brags about you all the time. Louis, I mean. He teases you about being a dumb blonde, but he’s seriously _so_ proud of you. Both times he heard about progress reports at school, that’s all I heard about for days, was how smart his little sister Lottie is.”

Lottie chewed on her lip, looking past Harry, to where Louis was snuggling up with Ernest and Doris, listening to them talk about their tattoos. “Really?” She asked finally, and Harry nodded.

“Don’t be embarrassed about being smart. Honestly, what a silly thing to be ashamed of! You can do anything you want. _Own_ that. If someone doesn’t like how smart you are, they’re way too stupid and insecure about themselves to deserve you.”

Lottie nodded quietly, and Harry uncapped the marker and started on her infinity symbol. She tapped away on her phone while he did it, and when he was finished turned over, brushing her hair up into a side pony tail and handed Harry her phone, which was set on a zoomed-in photo of what looked like school notes. “It’s a symbol of intelligence,” Lottie explained. “It’s the Egyptian goddess Seshat. She’s the goddess of wisdom, writing, science, observation, architecture…all kinds of stuff. That’s kind of her symbol, in hieroglyphics.”

Harry nodded, and Lottie pulled her ear forward, clearly giving him a place to work with. He drew the symbol behind her ear, fanning it with his hand to make it dry fast to prevent smudging, and he told her quietly, “If you go over it with a fine-tipped Sharpie, you can let it dry, rub baby powder over it a little, and then hair spray it on. It’ll stay there for about a week and a half, if you’re careful when you wash your hair.” Lottie turned around and smiled at him, blushing, and Harry found himself smiling back of his own volition. “Be proud of what makes you a little weird,” he told her seriously, and then she got up and left, a happy air settling in the room.

\---

Dinner was the loudest of all.

Beforehand, Louis and Harry (and Doris and Ernest) went to watch the older twins play. Phoebe was like a freaking rocket on the bases, running fast enough that her pop-up slide was completely unnecessary. Daisy was positively _filthy_ , and the twins’ makeup was smeared everywhere, making them look ridiculous. Daisy was a power hitter, even at nine years old, and she had an arm on her, too. They really were good players, though Phoebe had a quietly-lethal passion for it that Harry couldn’t describe and didn’t quite see in Daisy, despite her obvious talent.

When they came back, the girls only had time to wash up and then come to the table. Dinner consisted of passing plates and Tupperware bowls around in circles to the left. Louis sat next to Harry, this time, and his parents started asking Harry a few more questions that were slightly more adult-related. Jay asked about checkups and screenings, and Harry and Louis specifically did _not_ mention their disagreement on the Downs Syndrome testing. The kids asked questions and it was obvious that the Tomlinsons encouraged curiosity within their children, but when Ernest asked how Louis got pregnant in the first place, questions were shut down and there was a quiet game talking ban placed on the table for about three minutes until Daisy broke it.

When it came time to say goodbye, Harry was nearly drowned in hugs he would never quite be ready for, but returned nonetheless. Ernest started throwing a tantrum, heartbroken and angry at Louis’ disappearance again, and Lottie and Phoebe gave quiet hugs full of seriousness. Doris peppered Harry’s face in kisses, though she _was_ admittedly very adorably careful around Harry’s piercings, since Harry had told her it was painful if he wasn’t really gentle with them. Daisy had only given him one kiss, right on the cheek, and buried her head against Harry’s neck as she squeezed him tight. Felicite hugged him carefully. Mark did the classic manly handshake-clap-on-the-shoulder-thing, and Jay hugged Harry and told him he was welcome – encouraged, even – to come back any time he was available.

Louis’ throat was a little rough by the time Harry shut him into the passenger seat, and Jay had to hold Ernest so he didn’t chase after the car, crying angrily at Louis and Harry. Everyone else waved from the front porch as Harry and Louis drove out of sight.

\---

The next morning, Harry woke up with his abs a little sorer than usual and a text on his phone. _You were incredible yesterday. Even better last night ;) love you !_

Harry went to work feeling like the king of the world.

\---

Zayn had been acting weird for two days.

Harry came into work on Wednesday a little cautiously, unsure of what he’d find. Monday, Zayn had acted hysterical, strange and hyper enough that Harry worried for a few minutes if he was on something hard. Zayn had smoked pot even when they were kids in middle school, but he’d always been sure-fire to stay away from the hard stuff, and he’d nearly gone ballistic when he found out Harry had tried some. Harry remembered Zayn getting three days’ suspension for beating up Siva, the severe-looking, greasy friend, Max’s right-hand man through Harry’s freshman year, when he found out Siva was behind Harry getting drugs.

Tuesday, when Harry came in, Zayn was very…zen, sort of. Actually, he was acting like Raven from _That’s So Raven_ when she was pretending to be the opening act for that vegetarian singer Chelsea hired. Harry half-expected him to start singing about celery.

So, on Wednesday, when Harry came into work, he went straight to his room and didn’t come out except when he wanted someone to tattoo. At lunch, Harry came out a little nervously, but Zayn was nowhere to be found, and Harry was getting a little irritated. It was the third day in a row he’d blown Harry off, and Harry had no idea what he could’ve possibly done wrong. He went to lunch alone, texting Louis during it and avoiding awkward looks from Jade.

When he was finishing up his chicken, Harry’s phone vibrated with an unknown number. _hey stole ur number from loulous phone hope you don’t mind, its lottie._

Harry chewed his lip as he read it. Was it awkward to text your boyfriend’s little sister? Was that pedophile-ish? Obviously, Harry knew he wasn’t attracted to Lottie, or anything, but he didn’t… Or was it rude to ignore her? How would Louis feel if Harry _didn’t_ text his little sister back? If the roles were reversed, Harry wouldn’t really care unless it pissed Gemma off. Being ignored would do it, though.

Finally, Harry texted back. _No, I don’t mind. Do you think he would though? I’m not getting on a pregnant man’s shit list for anyone!_

_LOL no he doesn’t ever mind hell be fine. Just wanted to say thank you, what you said was really nice and it was really cool of you to say that even though you didn’t want to talk to me_

Harry frowned when he read Lottie’s next message. She thought he hadn’t wanted to talk to her? _Why do you say that? I had a really nice time and you were great, I didn’t have a problem talking to you! I’m just a really shitty conversationalist, sorry. Plus Louis wasn’t exaggerating, my family’s only got one other kid and I was kind of nervous!_

Lottie took a while to text back, and Harry had to get back to his office, so he sent out, _Seriously, I mean it. You guys are really really great._ and paid.

Harry thought about the exchange the entire time, a little frustrated. He thought he’d done well at the Tomlinsons’, but apparently, he’d made everyone feel like he hadn’t wanted to be there at all. He’d have to talk to Louis about it and figure out a way to make them see that he didn’t hate them all. He probably wouldn’t ever be best friends with any of them, but he found he really did enjoy kids – the Tomlinson kids, in particular – and Mark and Jay were perfectly kind in a way that didn’t feel false or overly forced, like they weren’t worried about Harry defiling Louis or ruining him, or anything.

Harry stayed in a funk the rest of his shift, turning his music up too loud to really talk to his clients. He knew it was rude, and his tips were shitty and low because of it, but he didn’t really care. Harry was cleaning up his room when Zayn knocked on the door.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Harry asked, and Zayn stepped in, closing the door behind him. He didn’t bother with angry questions like _Where the fuck have you been_ _?_ or _Why have you been avoiding me?._ Zayn would tell him when he was ready, and not a second before.

“Nothing much,” he answered, fingers a little twitchy like he wanted a cigarette. “Just wanted to see how you and Louis are. You know, it’s stressful, and stuff, I get it. But, uh, you’re – you’re good, right?”

Harry nodded warily. “Yeah, for now,” he said. “He’s waiting for me at my place, actually, so…”

It was a clear dismissal, but Zayn chose not to take it, sighing instead. “Listen,” he said, “I know we don’t really, like, _do_ serious, deep discussions, but I just. I think the baby thing is making me feel kind of weird.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Harry found himself getting a little irate. “Uh, okay. Sorry my unborn child is getting on your fucking nerves, bro. Is that all you wanted? ‘Cause you can get out of here, with that shit. It’s terrifying enough as it is without you being a dick.”

Zayn sighed, though, instead of rising to the bait, and shook his head. “ _Bro_ , I didn’t mean it bad. I mean, like, you having a kid is making me feel like I need to have a real conversation with you. About, like, us. Our friendship, you know?”

He didn’t. Harry didn’t know. He nodded anyway.

“So, I just – like, I wanted to tell you, I’m gonna stop smoking pot, for good. And get serious about being a better person. I want you to trust me.”

Harry scratched at his nose, and then the back of his neck. The hair on his arms stood up. He was distinctly uncomfortable with this conversation already. “Bro, man, I – I _do_ trust you. Like, you’re right there with Gems; you’re my best friend.”

Zayn smiled a little at that confession, but he nodded like he was reassuring himself. “Right,” he said, “but I mean – I want you to be able to trust me with your boyfriend. With your _baby_ , when it comes time. I don’t want to hold your newborn baby and, like, freak you the fuck out, or anything. I want to be someone you can trust to, like, babysit, and shit. I don’t know. I just wanted to let you know, I’m seriously here for you. You’re – you’re like my little brother, is all, and, like, I love you.” He coughed, then, and Harry squirmed where he stood. “And, uhm, if you or Louis ever need anything - _anything_ \- like, I hope you think to come to me.”

Harry nodded, surprised and uncomfortable as hell, but also really touched. They’d had a very few serious conversations before, like when Harry came out, and Zayn came out a few years later, and when Zayn’s grandfather died and he’d gone off the deep end for a few months, but they’d never talked about their relationship before.

“I – yeah, Zayn. Thank you. That…really, that’s, uhm.” Harry cleared his throat. “You know. That’s – if you’re trying to get my vote as godfather over Niall, you know, you’ve, uh. You’ve got it.”

Zayn laughed, then, sounding overwhelmed and relieved, and to Harry’s horror, he wiped underneath his eyes. “Thanks, bro,” he chuckled. “Hey, I’ll get out of your hair, now. Go on home.”

Harry moved towards the door, but Zayn caught him up in a tight hug, first, thudding his fists against Harry’s back. Harry tensed up as soon as Zayn wrapped his arms around him, but melted a little – enough to sigh and clap his hands over Zayn’s shoulder blade. “Thanks, man,” Harry said a little awkwardly, and then Zayn released him.

In a bit of a daze, Harry walked to his car, unsure of what the _fuck_ had just happened.

\---

At their appointment the next day, Dr. Pinnock gave great news. They were doing an ultrasound, focusing on the baby’s heartbeat and head. The computer screen was pointing to Dr. Pinnock, so Harry and Louis couldn’t see, but they heard the heartbeat.

“At your appointment next week, I can scan for the sex of the baby,” she said with a bright smile. She was so expressive; Harry was certain he’d never shown that much excitement on his face, like. Ever.

Louis gasped, though, fingers drumming on his stomach, and gripped Harry’s hand tight with the other one. They shared a look, and Harry leaned down to kiss him hard. “I love you,” he said quietly, uncomfortable with Dr. Pinnock right there, but he felt like he needed to say it.

“Oh, Harry, can we invite Mom and Dad down? And your parents, too! Can we – can we have everyone over, and reveal the baby’s gender to them? Please? Like, next weekend, or something? Maybe even Gemma could come see you play, or something, wouldn’t that be insane? Please, can we have them over?”

Harry laughed at Louis tripping over his words and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “We can call them as soon as we leave.”

“Would you like to see the baby’s head?” Dr. Pinnock asked, and Louis squeezed Harry’s hand as he nodded.

Dr. Pinnock turned the screen over, showing it to Harry, and placed her hand on the mouse, wiggling the pointer around in a circle. “So, that’s the baby’s heartbeat, do you see that flickering?” There was a tiny spot on the screen that flickered between dark gray and white, and it was nearly double time to Louis’. “Heartbeat’s strong,” she commented, and Harry felt the tightness in his chest ease tenfold. “Those are the arms, right there. Fingers are still forming, so it looks a little strange to see the baby’s hands. Legs, right there…and right there.” She turned the screen quickly, moved the monitor a little further over on Louis’ belly. “Back to the face,” she said, turning the screen back to Harry and Louis with an apologetic grin. “It’s habit to move the screen when we go over the genital area, even if it’s not clear yet, sorry. There’s the baby’s face; think it looks like you, Mr. Styles? Or you, Mr. Tomlinson? What’s the consensus?”

Harry let go of Louis’ hand and moved closer to the screen, eyes wide and mouth agape. It was just a tiny little gray and white figure, almost looked like an alien ‘cause its head was so much bigger than its body, but – “That’s my baby?” He asked, a little breathless. Dr. Pinnock nodded and Louis laughed a little wetly. “That’s – can we take pictures of this, is that allowed?”

“I can print the scan off for you,” Dr. Pinnock offered. “If you take it with your phone, it’ll make the screen fuzz a little bit, and it won’t look good at all, trust me. Here –” Dr. Pinnock moved the mouse over to the side and clicked a few buttons, and smiled, satisfied. “I’ll have Perrie run it out to you after we’re done, here.”

Harry looked back to Louis, feeling amazed.

“I love you,” Louis said, and Harry stumbled back to him.

Avoiding the goo on Louis’ stomach, Harry hugged him and tucked his face, trying to keep from smearing his makeup all over Louis’ work shirt, since he had to go back after the appointment. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and dug his fingers into Harry’s curls, breathing heavily. He laughed loudly in Harry’s ear.

“The baby’s all healthy, right?” Louis asked, and Harry straightened up to watch Dr. Pinnock’s face when she scanned over the charts, making that clicking noise with her tongue.

“It looks like it,” she said, nodding, flipping through pages and pages of papers. “You opted out of the Downs Syndrome scan, but everything else is coming up negative – like spina bifida, for example, or brain abnormalities. The baby seems to be developing pretty normally. It’s a little behind on…” she pressed the scanner-thing over Louis’ belly again. “ _Liver_ development. It’s a little behind on liver development, but it’s pretty usual for children of male pregnancies to sort of pick an organ and go a little slow on it. They usually speed up towards the end. You might have to watch the baby’s liver for a few years, just sort of keep an eye on it, but as far as organs to be behind on, the liver’s pretty lucky. Keep your child on a healthy diet and regular exercise for a child, and you probably won’t ever have problems. Once they’re older, you’ll be able to get a good reading on it.”

Harry and Louis nodded dumbly. Why didn’t Harry ever remember to bring a notepad? He felt like these were things he should be writing down.

“Don’t look so down,” Dr. Pinnock smiled. “I’m legally obligated to tell you things like that. Like I said, they almost always right themselves before the baby’s even born. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the baby was nearly caught up by the time you come in next week for the scan. I really doubt you’ll have any problems, okay? Your baby is incredibly healthy. And big.”

Harry and Louis relaxed immeasurably at that. Still, Louis asked, “Is there anything I could be doing to help the little thing? I mean, like, as far as diet and exercise, or, like, stress level. Should I not be working? I don’t…” He looked a little helplessly at Harry, and then back to Dr. Pinnock.

“Other than eating organically and _not_ running – if you want to exercise, I suggest swimming, yoga, or walking. Running in and of itself won’t hurt the baby, but you always increase the risk of falling and hurting it the faster or more intensively you work out.”

Louis wrinkled his nose. “Do I _have_ to eat organically? Like, is it okay that I’m just not eating as much processed food? Harry’s been reading this book – Dr. Shell, or something –”

“Dr. Shelley,” Harry corrected.

“Yeah, Shelley,” Louis continued. “And, like, apparently he’s been made into the new God, or something.”

Dr. Pinnock laughed when Harry scowled playfully at Louis. “Dr. Shelley’s one of the best doctors in the field,” she said, nodding. “He’s great. If he’s written it, it’s pretty much the male pregnancy Bible; I’m surprised you were able to find one of his books around. They pretty much fly off the shelves. Even women buy them. I’ve got one, myself. As a doctor, it helps a lot to see what he says.”

Harry felt much better after hearing Dr. Pinnock reassure him and validate his devotion to Dr. Shelley’s book, and they left feeling like they’d ridded themselves of a thousand pounds each, right off their shoulders.

Harry hadn’t even opened the car door for Louis before Louis had his phone to his ear. “Mom? Hey, yeah – you and Dad have to come next weekend…”

\---

Harry had rushed to get to the bar as soon as he got off work at the parlor, so he hadn’t been able to speak to Louis at all before he saw him at the counter, asking Ed for a sweet tea.

Harry smiled and waved at his boyfriend, spilling a bit of vodka on the counter and blushing when Louis laughed loudly at him. “How are you today, sunshine?” Louis asked, coming over to sit by Harry’s side.

Harry thanked the man for dropping coins in the tip dish and then sidled over to Louis, looking around for Nick. When he didn’t see his boss, Harry leaned across the counter and kissed Louis. “I’m good,” he smiled. “How was your day?”

Louis sighed. “A little shitty, but better now,” he winked. “Ready to see my sexy boyfriend perform for me.” Harry laughed and thumped Louis on his nose before going to serve more drinks.

When Niall showed up, Harry clocked out, and pulled out a stool for Louis. Zayn was already there, surprisingly, and he gave Harry an awkwardly tight hug before wrapping an arm around Louis’ neck. Harry left Zayn with Louis and headed over to the stage, where Josh was already setting up his drums. Niall handed Harry his guitar, and Harry strapped it up and grabbed his mic stand, smiling widely at the people of the bar. This was where he felt at home, putting on a show with people watching him do what he loved more than anything, his boyfriend standing next to his best friend, both ready and waiting to see what Harry could do.

“Good evening, Otto Bar,” Harry called. “We’re The Masochists; I hope you’re enjoying yourselves tonight. We’re gonna play a few songs for you; I hope that’s alright.”

The crowds were getting bigger every week. The place had been busy as shit all evening, and even now, the doors kept opening and closing with people wandering in, picking a spot and watching The Masochists.

They started off strong and ridiculously sexual, with more Whitesnake, _Kitten’s Got Claws_ and _Bad Boys_ , and then ACDC’s _Giving The Dog A Bone_. They played _Rock You Like A Hurricane_ and _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ – because _surely_ a sexy show wouldn’t be a sexy show without those two? Harry wanted Louis sweating by the time they got home. They played a slightly bastardized version of Sheena Easton’s _Sugar Walls_ , and then _Girls, Girls, Girls_ and _Too Young To Fall In Love_ by Motley Crue, because Harry loved being able to scream during songs. They sang _Dude (Looks Like A Lady)_ by Aerosmith and _Do You Wanna Touch Me_ by Joan Jett.

Harry looked across the bar and saw Louis sitting, Zayn right next to him, and smiled. Louis waved and blew him a kiss, and Harry turned around promptly to help clean up. He _wouldn’t_ be that sappy boyfriend blowing kisses across a crowded room. He wouldn’t.

_\---_

Louis wasn’t quite as horny as Harry had expected. They’d made it to Harry’s bed without difficulty, and Harry resigned himself to a jack-off the next morning. Before they went to sleep, though, he gave it a try – the worst Louis could say was no.

He crowded up behind Louis and started kissing his neck, trailing his hand up and down Louis’ side. “Wanna?” He asked when Louis made an interested sound, and Louis grinded his hips back.

“Daddy,” Louis said quietly, and Harry nearly groaned out loud.

“Wanna ride Daddy’s cock, baby?” Harry asked, and Louis rolled over, nodding.

Harry twisted around and grabbed the lube from his nightstand and rolled back around, Louis already turned around on his hands and knees, ready for the taking. “You look so good, baby,” Harry moaned, thanking the lord for his lot in life. He dropped the lube and lurched forward, pulling down Louis’ boxers and spreading his cheeks wide.

Harry licked a stripe up Louis’ crack and then drew circles around his rim, making Louis flatten so that his face was against the mattress, not even bothering to hold himself up. Harry licked around Louis’ hole and pressed his tongue slightly inside, feeling Louis making the conscious effort of loosening up. When Harry uncapped the lube, he poured it straight onto Louis’ hole, making him yelp from the sudden temperature shock.

“Warn a guy,” he muttered, and Harry apologized by way of sliding his first knuckle into his hole, earning a grateful (and forgiving, Harry decided) moan from him.

Harry took his time, sucking barely-there marks into Louis’ skin. Harry stroked his own cock, glad he was already prepared to sleep, meaning he was naked, when he sank the second finger slowly into Louis, hearing his whines and being extra careful.

“Alright, baby?” He asked, and Louis nodded, panting against the bed sheets. “What’s your color?”

“Green,” Louis said, whining as he wriggled his hips, trying to get Harry to give him more when Harry pulled his fingers out to the very tips, and sighed happily when Harry slid them back in. “More, though.”

Harry hummed when he started stretching Louis out, getting him ready for his third finger, and he drizzled lube onto his cock when he got there, making a mess all over the sheets but deciding then and there not to give a fuck about it. Louis was enjoying himself, moaning and whining Harry’s name, calling him ‘Daddy’ and asking for more.

“Ready to ride me?” Harry asked, once he decided Louis could take him. Louis nodded, so Harry removed his fingers and flopped over, earning a distracted huff of laughter from Louis for the unnecessary comedy.

Louis straddled Harry and reached down between his legs to grab Harry’s cock, guiding it back to his hole and growling in frustration when he dropped it. Twice.

“I’ll get it, let Daddy get it,” Harry said. “Let Daddy take care of it, yeah?” Harry grabbed his own cock and guided it to Louis’ hole, pressing in slightly, and then let Louis take over, knowing he would get crabby if he thought Harry didn’t think he could do it himself.

Louis sank down slowly with his eyes closed, biting his lip and pulling on it until it turned white, and then letting it go to slowly drop his head back and moan quietly. He rolled his hips a few times before he was all the way seated, selfish and unable to wait for the pleasure.

"So good,” Harry found himself muttering, like a mantra.

Louis _finally_ sank down fully, ass brushing Harry’s balls and both of them moaning. Harry’s fingers were flexing in the sheets, knowing if he held on to Louis’ hips, he’d bruise him, and Louis barely stayed stay for ten seconds before he started bouncing.

He seemed uncomfortable, though, and Harry would have written it off as being tight, but they’d just fucked not five days ago, and Harry wasn’t exactly gentle. On the other hand, he’d been much, much rougher than he was Sunday night, so he didn’t think he could have _hurt_ Louis. Just as Harry was about to stop him and ask, Louis stilled and sighed, looking vaguely upset and pretty embarrassed.

“Can you just not look at me?” He snapped, and Harry did a double-take.

“Uh. What?”

"Like, I know I look like a fucking _whale_ , you can see my double-chin right now and my big, floppy _boobs_ and shit, so I don’t feel sexy and I’d really appreciate it if you just closed your eyes, or something. Fuck, I’m probably _crushing_ you. Can you even fucking _breathe_?”

Harry deserved a fucking _Nobel Peace Prize_ for not laughing in that moment. As it was, Louis’ discomfort had him squirming on Harry’s cock, which felt amazing to him, apparently, because he kept tightening up like a vice around it, which felt amazing for _Harry_. It was a struggle not to hold Louis still and fuck up into him on the best of days, but now was the time for Harry to be Serious and Caring.

“Baby, you’re not fat at _all_ ,” he began, but Louis just silenced him with a waving hand and an angry look.

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Harry, I’m just – look, just. Forget it. Is there some other way we can do this?” He finally snapped, huffing and angry and embarrassed as he rose up, removing himself from Harry’s cock.

Harry was pretty sure his dick was crying.

“There’s, uhm, reverse cowgirl?” Harry suggested, and Louis glared at him.

“Honestly, Harry, I’m not from the Wild Wild West. I live in _Manhattan_.”

“It’s not – I mean, you don’t need, like…a lasso, or anything,” Harry mumbled, a little taken aback. They’d _done_ reverse cowgirl before. “Want to go on your back?”

“Oh, so you can literally see every single bit of weight I’ve gained since you got me pregnant?” Louis snapped, stroking his own cock.

“I could get behind you. Or, like, on your side."

Louis huffed, standing up and walking to the bathroom. “Fuck it. I’ll just go and fuck my hand in your bathroom like a teenager.”

Harry watched him go, his cock _aching_ and flushed, and collapsed back onto his mattress, sighing. Well, he’d wanted a sexual experience. That was…certainly a new one.

_\---_

(Louis came back ten minutes later and crawled into bed sheepishly. He apologized and gave Harry a make-up blow job for his troubles.)

_\---_

Harry woke up a few days later to a sharp prodding on his hip and Louis repeating his name, sounding nearly in tears.

“ _Harry_ , please wake up,” Louis sniffed, his voice breaking. It took Harry a few seconds to realize, but he blinked awake and noticed Louis was sitting up, one hand fisted tightly in the hairline of his own head and the other poking Harry’s side, face screwed up.

“What’s wrong, where’s it hurt?” Harry asked, suddenly sitting up and taking Louis’ face in his hands. “What’s the matter, Lou?” He asked, blinking away the sleep as he pried Louis’ hand away from his face so he didn’t give himself a bald spot.

Louis shook his head and his lip quivered a little. “Harry, I’m – I’m _hungry_ ,” he said shakily, and Harry blinked.

“I – uhm, okay. Lou, babe, you – I told you, you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen; you don’t have to – you can just have whatever you want; it’s fine.”

Louis shook his head, though, and one short sob came from his tight lips. “You don’t _have them_ ,” he said sadly.

“Have what?” Harry asked, rubbing Louis’ cheek softly. “What do you want, babe? I’ll – what time is it?” Harry inwardly groaned when he saw the time: it was nearly three in the morning. “Baby, you have to be up in a few hours for work, anyway; just wait until then, okay?”

Louis sniffled, but as Harry watched, he nodded. When Harry moved closer to kiss his forehead, though, Louis let out a few sobs and, embarrassed, put his face into his hands so Harry wouldn’t be able to see. “I’m sorry,” he said, muffled, “I don’t even – go back to sleep; I’ll just…I’m okay, I think it’s just the – the hormones.”

“Lou…” Harry was torn. He really wanted to go back to sleep, but he didn’t want to leave Louis crying. At the same time, he knew Louis was prideful and he really didn’t want to stay awake and around to make him uncomfortable by watching him cry, but he really didn’t want Louis to cry alone. _However_ , he didn’t want to get up and go to a store for something, but he certainly knew it was _his_ dick that had technically created this entire situation, so maybe he _was_ supposed to be running all of Louis’ errands and catering to his cravings.

Harry wanted to punch himself when Louis made a whiny nose in the back of his throat, eyebrows furrowed and trying not to cry too loudly.

“Louis, come here, babe,” he nearly cooed, opening his arms and letting Louis lean in close and bury his face in Harry’s neck. “What are you wanting? What’s got you awake at three in the morning, crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Louis lied, and he must have realized his face was showing that he was emotional, because his lip quivered while his cheeks blushed and he tried to pull away again.

Harry kept his arms around Louis, though, petting down Louis’ spine over his shirt, and waited until Louis settled again. “What is it?” He asked once more.

Louis took a shuddery breath and ducked his head even more so Harry could only see his hair if he looked down, and said slowly, “So, I – was having this dream, right, and there was, like, this, uhm. This big pickle – don’t laugh – and it was, like, floating after this hot dog. But, so, the hot dog jumped over this fence, and so – and then, but the pickle couldn’t jump that high, ‘cause it was fat and bumpy, like one of those _really good_ pickles like that – why are you laughing?”

“No, I’m sorry, no, go ahead, I’m listening. Your – breath was tickling my collarbone,” Harry lied on the fly, and Louis muttered an apology and shifted his head a little.

“So, uhm, right. So, it didn’t make it over the fence and fell _through_ it, like that one Spongebob episode, and it got sliced right up and landed on the hot dog.”

Louis finished his story and settled back down, leaving Harry scrambling to make sense of it. “So, that’s your craving?” He asked, a little underwhelmed. “You just want a hot dog with sliced pickles on it?” Harry _totally_ had pickles and hot dogs in his fridge.

“And sauerkraut ,” Louis added promptly. Harry tried not to gag at the thought.

He wanted to ask where sauerkraut came from in the dream, but he really didn’t want to get an answer. “Oh,” he said, trying not to mentally whine. He got Louis and himself into this situation – this miraculous, warm, if sometimes gag-worthy situation – and he would take care of Louis. “I – uhm, alright, I’ll…let me get some clothes on, and I’ll be right back, okay?” He held back a sigh as he slid out of the bed, reaching for his jeans on the floor.

Louis curled up in a little ball and nodded, looking small and embarrassed. “Hurry back,” he said quietly, and Harry paused in zipping his pants up.

“Of course,” Harry answered, and leaned down to kiss Louis’ temple.

\---

For the past week, Louis had been talking nonstop about the coming weekend, when Harry’s family and his own family would be coming down. He’d spent _hours_ of free time planning fun things to do to keep everyone entertained in ways that would create a non-stressed environment in which their families could get to know each other and have a good time. Half of Louis’ family were planning to stay in a hotel room, and the other half would take the bedrooms at Louis' place. Harry’s parents and Gemma were planning to stay at Harry’s, his parents taking Harry’s bed and Harry and Gemma camping out in the living room.

When Jay ended up calling Friday night after the show, saying she wouldn’t able to make the announcement of the sex, Louis had been heartbroken. As a complete momma’s boy, Louis loved his mother and felt close to his mother with a deep-seated, ingrained need, and when Louis had opened the voicemail she’d left him, he’d fallen into a melancholy state.

That night, Harry had been sitting on Louis’ bed, powering through the next chapter of _Months of Changes_ , and Louis had come in just as Harry wrote down a few notes. Louis hadn’t answered Harry’s half-hearted greeting, so Harry turned around and glanced at him, questioning.

Louis looked heartbroken, and Harry immediately dog-eared the page and tossed the book to the floor. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, concerned. He pulled himself under the covers to be closer to Louis and rested on hand on Louis’ bump, letting Louis turn and rest his head on Harry’s chest. “What is it?”

“Mom’s not coming tomorrow,” Louis said, and even though his voice was muffled against his chest, Harry heard the dejection and felt it down his spine for Louis.

“Oh, Lou,” he said on a sigh. “I’m sorry, babe.” There wasn’t much else he could say; Louis had been really looking forward to seeing his mom and sisters and brother, even though his dad had already apologized and said he wouldn’t be able to take leave for the baby’s actual birth if he took leave for anything else. Louis’ mom had been gushing in excitement, shooting _Louis_ practically over the moon in it, and now, she wasn’t coming. “Why not?”

Louis burrowed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck and said something in a teary whine, and Harry brushed fingers through his hair.

“What was that?” Harry asked, leaning his head closer to try and decipher the emotional words.

“Lottie and Felicite have fever,” he nearly wailed, making Harry jump and then cringe.

“Oh, are they alright?” Harry asked, figuring that was why Louis was upset, but Louis shrugged petulantly. “What – are they in the hospital, or anything?” Harry soldiered on, trying to figure everything out, but Louis only sobbed. “Louis, _babe_ ,” Harry said, and cut himself off, not sure where to go from here. Instead, he just hummed and mumbled sympathetic-sounding things, patting gently at Louis’ back and rubbing his hand over the bump pressing against his side, where Louis was curling into him.

“They’ll be fine,” Louis sniffled eventually.

“Then, why are you crying?” Harry asked, completely bewildered, and Louis ducked his head again. “No, Louis, please don’t –”

“Because I’m a horrible brother!” Louis cried, wiping snot on the collar of Harry’s shirt.

Harry was absolutely _repulsed_. He was. Snot was disgusting; crying, overemotional Louis was _not_ cute. Not at all.

Clearing his throat, Harry asked tentatively, “What makes you a horrible brother, Louis?”

Louis sniffled and mumbled tearfully against Harry’s neck, but Harry made out enough to understand Louis’ guilt: he wanted Jay to come, anyway.

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry said, trying not to laugh even though he was pitying Louis. He kept patting Louis’ back. “Those are the oldest two. There’s nobody there to take care of them if Jay comes, babe. If it were the girl twins, maybe she could leave the older four, but…sweetheart, don’t cry…”

Harry gave up trying to talk Louis out of it and patted and hummed with him until Louis fell asleep, mouth open and snot drying on Harry’s neck disgustingly, his collarbones feeling caked with tears and hot breath. Louis slept with a death grip around Harry’s torso, so he tried not to move around too much as he fought to get comfortable around him.

\---

The next day, Gemma, Anne, and Robin would be coming, as they had all managed to take some time off – Gemma had taken two days, and Anne and Robin had managed to take one.

Harry’s parents arrived earlier in the morning, though, causing Harry to wake with a start. Louis groaned irritably as Harry pulled his nasty shirt off and answered the door bare-chested; it was nothing his parents hadn’t seen.

“Oh,” Harry’s mom said when he answered the door, and Harry wanted to smack his forehead against it. He’d forgotten to take care of his makeup; not only was it _on_ , it was smeared and messy, making it look even worse, and Harry’s mom really wasn’t a fan of the body modification, even after all these years. Not to mention, all his piercings were in.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, a little hollow. “Forgot. You guys came early,” he said, hugging Robin and kissing his mom’s cheek. “Safe trip?”

“It was fine,” Robin said, a tad too loud, and grimaced apologetically when Harry shushed him frantically. “We got up a few hours earlier, so we’d have a little more time to spend. But if you’re still asleep, we wouldn’t mind getting a few extra hours in, ourselves, to make up.”

“That’s right,” Anne said, hugging Harry tightly. “We barely got to know Louis at all, what with so much news to digest and only the one day you guys came to stay…You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart?”

“Of course not,” Harry said truthfully, genuinely touched that they wanted to know Louis, despite not even having known Harry was gay until a few weeks ago. He smiled, a big smile, and kissed both their cheeks. “Here, let me get your stuff,” he said, slinging the bag Robin was holding over his shoulder, and leading the way. “Lou’s got a spare bedroom, it’s just this way. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you guys anything?” Harry asked over his shoulder, still quietly, as he led the way through Louis’ apartment to the guest bedroom.

“No, we’re fine, Bud,” Robin said behind him. “You look dead on your feet, and Louis’ obviously still sleeping; why don’t you go on back to bed? We’ll just catch up on a few hours or watch TV quietly until someone wakes up. We can go to lunch when Gems gets here.”

Harry smiled gratefully; he _was_ exhausted. “Thanks,” he said. “Sleep tight.” He turned to leave, but at the last moment, paused. He turned around and looked his parents in the eyes and said, slowly and deliberately, “I’m really glad you guys are here. It means a lot to both of us.” Harry’s mom looked like she might have teared up, so Harry left, then, too tired to deal with any more water works that didn’t belong to the man who was carrying his child.

Harry slipped into bed again with Louis, who whined in his sleep and rolled over closer as soon as he felt Harry’s body heat. Harry kissed his temple and wrapped his arms around him, drifting to sleep easy as ever.

\---

A few hours later, Louis watched as Harry wiped his face with a wet cloth in front of Louis’ mirror, carefully removing any trace of makeup from his skin. “I just don’t get it,” he said for the third time, and Harry sighed.

“Lou, babe, I know it’s weird, but can you please just…I don’t want to talk about it, not right now. Can we please drop it?” Harry felt himself numbing as he pulled out the hoops that almost permanently sat in his lower lip, replacing them with clear spacer studs. While he did the same for each piercing, only leaving a small, glinting stud in his nostril, Louis stayed quiet. “I just want a nice visit. We’ve been waiting three days with that sonogram; I just really want this to be a spectacular day.”

“Why aren’t you taking that one out?” He asked finally, nodding to where Harry was touching the nose ring.

Harry smiled. “This was my first piercing,” he explained, remembering how proud he’d felt when he came home with a swollen, red, and hurting nose, a piece of metal making his mom freak out. “Before any of my tattoos or makeup, this was the very first change I made to myself. My mom might not be a fan of all the metal and makeup, but she can deal with one tiny reminder that I’m not a sweet, silently-angry fourteen-year-old anymore.”

Harry talked big, but he knew Louis could sense the sadness in his tone, because Louis silently stood and came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s stomach and kissing his shoulder. “I think you’re beautiful no matter what, but my favorite you is the you who’s comfortable with himself.”

A little stunned, Harry turned around in Louis’ arms, looking him in the eye. “You don’t think I look better or worse like this?” He asked, not sure if he should believe it yet. But Louis shook his head.

“I like you best when you’re comfortable. When you _feel_ like you. I don’t think you need makeup or metal rings to be your best you – I think that’s something that’s down in your heart – but I like all the yous. I like you how you normally are, all body jewelry and makeup and a mic on stage, and I like you with smeared makeup and messy hair and your rings all pushed strange from sleep, and I like you with your prettiest bling and best makeup for fancy things. And I like you with no makeup, almost no rings, ready to go be soft and patient for the sake of your family.” Louis stood on his toes to kiss Harry gently, and Harry decided to blame Louis for the tears that stayed behind his eyelids. The pregnancy hormones were probably contagious, or something.

But Louis was frowning when Harry opened his eyes back up, and Harry pushed the crease between Louis’ eyes with his thumb. “What?” He asked, frowning as well, and Louis shook his head.

“I just wish you didn’t feel like you have to change your appearance for a family who already accepts that you’re a singer, a tattoo artist, and a gay father-to-be. They obviously love you and accept you, babe, but they’re never going to get used to the way you look unless you _let them_.”

Harry bit his lip and immediately regretted it; the stud didn’t feel so good when he pinched it with his teeth, rather than resting on the edge of the hoop, like they normally did. Louis was looking at him expectantly, though, so Harry nodded. “I’ll – think about it, okay?” He hedged, and Louis sighed, smiling as he hugged Harry.

“That’s all I ask,” he said.

Holding hands for a united front, Harry and Louis left their room and headed to the living room, where they saw Robin asleep on the couch, Anne reading a book next to him while the TV played softly.

“Hi, Mrs. Twist,” Louis said respectfully. “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”

Anne tossed down the book and stood, turning and rushing to Louis. “Oh, Louis, honey, you look fantastic! Don’t worry about getting me _anything_ , darling; Harry can make me my tea, couldn’t you, baby?” Harry nodded and left for the kitchen, smiling as he listened to his mom fawn over Louis.

“Oh, _darling_ , that baby bump is just _delicious_! Has Harry been taking good care of you? Yes? Oh, that’s so good to know. I’m so glad I raised that boy right, then. Tell me, how are you feeling?”

Louis sounded nervous, even though Harry’s mom was clearly in love, and Harry tried to rush through his mom’s morning tea by sheer will, so he could go be with him. It didn’t work. “Oh, I-I’m okay,” Louis said, a little shaky. “Uhm, I’m not really having any morning sickness, which made me nervous, but, uhm. Apparently the book Harry’s been reading says that’s –”

“Harry’s been reading?” Harry heard his mom ask a little shrilly, and Robin grunted suddenly, probably startled awake by her pitch. “Robin, Harry’s been reading pregnancy books to take care of Louis!” She sounded emotional, again, and Harry banged his head on the cabinet next to the stove for a bit.

“Good for him!” Robin said robustly. “Always knew our boy’d make a good dad.”

Harry puffed his chest out in pride in the kitchen, thankful that Robin had his back, but all his bravado faded when Louis laughed a little and asked, “Is that…I mean, is that really that big of a deal for Harry? I mean, I know he doesn’t really read, but…” And, suddenly, Harry was back to wanting to bang his head.

“’Is it a big deal’ – Louis, we used to have to bribe Harry with all that makeup simply to get him to do his assigned reading enough to pass his English classes! Harry is _not_ a reader, so make sure you feel extra special that he’s doing such a sweet thing for you.”

“Oh,” Louis said, voice full of wonder and emotion. He sounded a little overwhelmed, and it was really too early in the morning for that, so Harry shouted.

“Anything she says is a dirty lie!”

Anne squawked and shouted playfully while Robin chuckled and Louis laughed his little bell-laugh, and Harry came in with his mom’s tea and sat down in the chair whose arm Louis was perched on, pulling Louis casually down to sit in his lap.

It was a move Harry’d done a million times in the privacy of their apartments, and a few times in front of Zayn or Niall or Liam, but as soon as they realized Harry’d done in it front of his _parents_ , both Harry and Louis froze, panicking a little and staring at his parents to gauge their reaction.

Anne’s smile was a little shaky, but Robin barely blinked an eyelash, and Harry relaxed with a sigh of relief, prompting Louis to relax into Harry’s hold.

They chatted and caught up, not talking about anything important, since Gemma hadn’t arrived, yet, but discussed Louis’ plan for their day. They’d be looking to see the sex of the baby at dinner, here in Louis’ apartment, but Anne was an antsy person and couldn’t stand to stay still for so long, so they were planning on doing a little bit of shopping or going to one of New York City’s museums.

Harry was trying to sneakily text Jay, to try and set up a Skype call so that she could at least be there in spirit for Louis, when there was a knock on the door.

“ _Gemma_!” Harry shouted excitedly, flat-out running to the door. He could feel Louis staring at him when he yanked open the door to Louis’ apartment, and Gemma stood on the other side. Harry shouted wordlessly, pulling her into a hug and twirling her around.

“Harry!” She shouted back, and as soon as he set her back down, she was shoving him playfully. “Alright, I’ve seen your ugly mug; where’s Louis?”

Louis stepped around the corner, where he’d been peeking to watch, and blushed, scratching at his tummy a little self-consciously. The shy look returning to his face melted Harry’s heart, so he held out his hand for Louis to step up to them.

Louis took the invitation, tucking himself into Harry’s side as tight as possible, and Harry kissed the top of his head. “Gems, this is Louis. Louis, _this_ is my sister, Gemma.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Louis said nervously, holding a hand out, but Gemma slapped it out of the way and pulled Louis into a hug.

“It’s so good to meet you, too, Louis!” She said as she squeezed him tight. “I’ve heard so much about you, Harry’s so –” Harry slapped her a little over the back of the head, shaking his head with wide eyes. He didn’t want Louis to know what he’d been saying on private phone calls to Gemma; he wasn’t ready for it. Thankfully, Gemma caught on quickly, because she continued, “so, so, happy we’ve all finally managed to meet.”

Louis laughed, a little bewildered, and when Gemma finally let go, he retreated back to Harry’s side like a planet in orbit. “The feeling’s mutual between us, I promise,” he said eventually, leaning his head against Harry, now that he knew he was allowed.

“And _you_ ,” Gemma said, a little threateningly, reaching up to pop Harry on the forehead with the heel of her hand. “You came out to me through a _phone call_?! I mean, it’s not as if I didn’t _know_ already, but _Jesus_ , Harry!”

“Hey, it’s a tough thing to do,” Harry defended himself, making Gemma scoff, but Anne broke it up before it could turn serious.

“Alright, children, let’s not fight,” she called, hugging Gemma, happy to see her. “It’s not often we all manage to come together; let’s make this a pleasant day, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry and Gemma answered together exasperatedly, and Louis bit his lip to keep from laughing, so Harry bopped him on the nose.

“Well, I’m starving,” Gemma began loudly, and Harry scoffed.

“When are you _not_ , you fat cow,” he teased, laughing when Gemma just rolled her eyes and punched his arm.

“Just for that, Harry’s buying lunch for the fat cow,” Gemma said, stomping on Harry’s foot indignantly as she walked past him, ready to head out on her own, if she had to.

They spent a wonderful day together. Harry had drawn the line at going out with no makeup on, though he’d compromised between the no-makeup Harry and the usual Harry, for his parents’ sakes, and let Gemma come back into the house and draw on thin eyeliner, light enough that it wouldn’t bother his parents (hopefully) and present enough that he didn’t feel naked. His mom blinked a few times too many to be natural, but Robin shrugged when Harry came back, a little embarrassed by his dependency on makeup for confidence. Louis held his hand, either way.

Louis gradually came out of his shell, even getting comfortable enough to go with Gemma, blushing, to the lingerie section while Harry got stuck looking at _I <3 My Grandpa/Grandma_ stuff with Robin and an overemotional Anne after lunch. When they met back up, everyone had at least one bag, something that made Harry’s eyebrows raise, though Louis didn’t look at him for nearly half an hour.

They browsed toy stores, maternity/paternity stores, and Anne got a card from a maternity photographer she met in some store and gave it to Louis, who whispered to Harry an utter refusal to take any stupid mommy-to-be pictures involving being naked from the waist up, save a cloth wrapped around his belly, or anything similarly ridiculous.

Gemma brought home a bottle of red, and she and Harry started it off alone, since Robin and Anne would be leaving later, and Louis couldn’t drink. Dinner was a happy and loud affair, Louis being bubbly and loud and exciting, and after dessert, Harry, halfway to drunk already, headed to his room to grab his laptop while Louis went to the living room to find where he’d hidden the sonogram. By the time Louis had found it and got back into the dining room, Harry had already set up Skype and was calling Jay.

Louis nearly cried when Jay, Mark, and all Louis’ siblings answered, the camera set halfway across their living room while they all piled carefully on the couch. Lottie and Fliss were on the floor with a pile of tissues around them, looking miserable but trying to be excited, and Louis took in a shaky breath while Harry’s family all watched him try to compose himself. Louis stood next to Harry and his hand, and Harry boldly kissed him, drunk off love he felt, alcohol, and happiness. Together, they opened the sonogram, Harry’s family watching at the table and Louis’ family through a fuzzy webcam.

“It’s a girl!” They shouted, and Harry could have thrown up, he was so happy. Right there, in front of both their families, Harry grabbed Louis’ face and bent down to kiss him thoroughly. Louis forgot all hesitation and wrapped his arms up around Harry’s neck, smiling and laughing into their kiss.

“I’m having a daughter!” Harry shouted, loud enough that the poor neighbors would lodge a complaint. “We’re having a daughter!” He shouted again anyway, straight into Louis’ face. Louis’ eyes were watering, so Harry just kissed him again, his heart soaring at the thought of Louis and a _daughter_ for the rest of his life.

After the news, Harry kept drinking with Gemma, talking to Jay and Mark and, a little, the girls and Ernest, until Jay had to go. She made them promise to come back up as soon as possible, before she left, and Louis took the computer to his room to say goodnight to his parents and siblings while Harry stayed in the kitchen to give him privacy, drinking. Of course, Harry and Gemma both always been sort of lightweights, and the alcohol paired with the excitement of the baby and the happiness of finally seeing each other again added up with very intoxicated siblings by the time Harry’s parents were getting ready to leave.

Harry kept walking up to everyone in the room, giving them hugs and kissing them. “I’m going to be a father,” Harry told Gemma six times. “I’m having a _daughter_. Look. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Harry kept petting the sonogram awkwardly.

“She’s like a _model_ ,” Gemma said about six times. “Seriously. My niece isn’t even born yet, and she’s the prettiest girl in the world.”

“ _I know, right?!” Harry exclaimed._

“It’s so strange,” Anne mused, when Louis came back into the kitchen, eyes a little red but looking happier than ever. Harry rushed over to him and bragged about his daughter.

“What?” Gemma asked her.

“My babies are all grown up,” Anne said, and Robin wrapped his arm around her waist, “but they’re still thick as thieves and as immature as ever.”

“Hey!” Harry protested, his face red from alcohol and feeling Louis’ attention fixated on him.

“I ser- I resent that!” Gemma said, smiling smugly as she said the word right. “ _We_ are bright, beautiful, young, and talented individuals, Mom; you never respected that.”

Harry groaned, remembering when Gemma said that for the first time. They had been just kids, and stumbled upon their mom’s old music, and Harry had looked up the songs and found Salt-N-Pepa videos. “Gems, _no_ ,” he groaned, even as he laughed, and Anne fluttered her arms excitedly.

“Robin! Robin, go bring your phone, darling!” She said, and Robin hauled himself up, laughing, while Anne pulled Louis gently down into a chair. “Watch what they can do,” she said, loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Oh, God,” Harry groaned, and Gemma just jumped up excitedly and cleared a space for them.

“Remember all the moves?” She asked, and Harry scoffed.

“Of course, I do,” Harry said, almost offended. “I still have to be the small one, though, or I’ll ruin it.”

“What’s going on?” Louis asked, laughing, and Harry rushed over and kissed him, like once he’d started, he couldn’t go five minutes without.

“You’re about to witness the best dance routine to _ever_ be seen,” he said dramatically, backing away as Robin came back, _Push It_ already loaded on his iPod app.

“Ready?” He asked and Harry looked to Gemma, who nodded, and nodded, himself. Robin pressed play.

“ _Ahh. Push it_ ,” played from the speakers, and Louis gasped as Harry and Gemma started clapping their hands over their heads, wiggling their hips.

“Oh, my _God_ , this is the best day of my life,” he said, already laughing.

Harry took two steps forward, facing Gemma, and hunched his back, wiggling, and then another quick two steps, arching his back and wiggling, Gemma doing the mirror image on the other side of the dining room. After another beat, they met up and faced Louis, Anne, and Robin, smiling, and started humping the air and throwing their hands forward, jumping up and circling their hips.

“Oh, my God,” Louis said again, when they threw their hands up in the air, circling their hips again as they let their arms fall slowly.

“Oooh, baby, _baby_ ,” the siblings sang, Harry’s voice going high and squeaky in what he felt was a very sexy sound. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Harry said, laughing, while Gemma took care of another _baby, baby_.

“They know the whole dance,” Harry saw his mom whisper into Louis’ ear, just as he and Gemma dropped into a squat, smiling up, and then jumped up again. They gyrated their hips, wiggling and thrusting and punching the air, and Harry’s grin felt like it’d take over his entire face as the threw back to his childhood while expecting a child of his own within months.

Harry did the entire dance, just as promised, and Louis gasped for air from laughing so hard when Harry crawled between Gemma’s spread legs while she wiggled her butt, pushing himself up and standing merely inches from her face. He rapped _Salt and Peppa’s here_ several times as he dances, throwing his leg over Gemma while she crouched and then kept dancing, breathless by the time they stopped.

“Push it,” Harry sang, looking dirtily at Louis, like his family wasn’t sitting _right next_ to him. “Push it good.” Harry thrust extra hard, and Louis blushed, making Gemma laugh hysterically until she couldn’t even sing with him.

Harry and Gemma both slipped a few times on the tile while they spun and stomped, and Harry nearly busted his butt when he dropped back onto a hand between his legs, but he _ow!_ ed and did his hip thrust in the right time, so he was proud. He shook his hips and arms and thrust his chest out all right, and when it came time to put his hands behind his head and circle his hips slowly again, he winked at Louis and licked his lips.

“Yo, yo, yo, yo, baby Pop, yeah, _you_ , come here – give me a kiss!” Harry said, rushing over to Louis and grabbing his arm, pulling him to stand.

He didn’t expect Louis to go with it, but he did, licking dirtily into his mouth while Gemma sang the next line, something about getting pissed.

“Can’t you hear the music pumping hard, like I wish you would? Now, push it.” Louis laughed, his face bright red, and thrust a few times in the air before pushing Harry away and sitting down, hiding his face for a few seconds. “Push it good.”

Harry laughed while Gemma sang a few lines, and then dropped to lean back on his hands, thrusting up at the air, where Gemma shook her butt, and then he walked away, to the other side of the “stage” while Gemma did the same thing.

Harry felt like he’d pass out if he danced another second, by the time the song started ending, so he crawled on his hands and knees towards Louis, who watched him as he shook with laughter. When Harry reached Louis, he smiled tiredly and kissed his knee, and then sat high on his own knees while Louis leaned down to kiss him for real. It was messy, and Louis was still laughing while Harry was gasping for air, and Harry ended it by flopping his head down on Louis’ thigh, breathing in his familiar-by-now smell. The song ended and Louis, Anne, Robin, and Gemma all clapped and cheered, Gemma grabbing Harry’s shoulders and shaking him excitedly before kissing his cheek soundly. Several times, he heard Louis’ bell-laughter, and he palmed Louis’ noticeable bump, thinking of the little girl growing inside of him, and he thought there was no way he could ever be happier.

“Little baby Ava Grace,” Harry mumbled. “I love you.”

_\---_


End file.
